


Hermes Black and the Boy-Who-Lived

by SummerChildWinterFury



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Based on Book-Series rather than Film-Series, Child Harry, F/F, F/M, Female Harry Potter, Gen, Harry Potter Raises Himself, M/M, Male Harry Potter as well, Master of Death Harry Potter, Multi, Parallel Universes, Rule 63, Time Travel Fix-It, kind of, starts pre-Hogwarts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2018-04-26
Packaged: 2019-02-13 13:18:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 33,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12984870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SummerChildWinterFury/pseuds/SummerChildWinterFury
Summary: Hermes Perenelle Black always knew she was different (or as Grand-mère insist: ‘extraordinaire’).Even for a witch.Even for a witch of the ‘Noble and Most Ancient House of Black’. Or of the ‘Auguste Famille Bienbon’, as Grand-mère reminds Uncle Hydrus every time he mentions the Black family.It’s more than the strange scar she has on her chest. Or the bizarre (usually scary) dreams she’s had for as long as she can remember. Or that she can talk to snakes or see those winged, reptilian-faced horses; all which Uncle Hydrus doesn’t want her to talk about to anyone, amongst the long list of other thingsnotto talk about.There is also the fact that she was born on the eve of Samhain. That she is an orphan. That her mother wasFrench, which apparently is sometimes as bad as being a muggleborn according to Uncle Hydrus (making sure Grand-mère is not around to hear). And that she is possibly the first Black ever to not go to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.It’s all of this, but mainly what happens on her eleventh birthday... and this Boy-Who-Lived who everyone is talking about when she (finally) wakes up the next day.





	1. Prologue - The Ancient and Noble House of Black, Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone
> 
> I have been reading quite a few Harry fan fiction stories and finally decided to join in and try one for myself. I hope you enjoy this first new story.
> 
> Words of encouragement and comments are welcome but please no silly bashing-troll comments just for the sake of it.
> 
> Disclaimer: The World of Harry Potter does not belong to me. While my story is fanfiction, and my creation, the Canon characters, locations, ideas... belong to JK Rowling. This is a work of fiction produced for the single purpose of entertaining fans of Harry Potter, and no Copyright infringement is intended.

 

** Prologue - The Ancient and Noble House of Black, Part 1 **

 

**\- } * * * { -**

 

On the 30th of April 1951*, in the Small Locked Tower of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry a big, parchment book known as the [Book of Admittance](http://harrypotter.wikia.com/wiki/Book_of_Admittance) willingly opened itself and allowed the [Quill of Acceptance](http://harrypotter.wikia.com/wiki/Quill_of_Acceptance) to write down the name  Bellatrix Druella Black.

Two years later  Andromeda Irma Black was added. To be followed three years later by  Narcissa Cassiopeia Black.

On the 3rd of November, 1959, the quill wrote  Sirius Orion Black, and the 21st of August, 1961*  Regulus Arcturus Black was added.

 

Finally, in the late hours of the 31st of October 1970, the quill wrote:  Hermes Perenelle Black.

 

 

**\- } * * * { -**

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This first part of the prologue is very short, but parts 2 and 3 will be longer and give more of a back-story.
> 
> * - For the birthdates:
> 
> For Bellatrix, only the year was given on Harry Potter Wiki, I decided to go for the date of Walpurgis Night (ie- Witches’ Night), as it seemed rather pertinent - especially given that Tom Riddle’s first followers at school were called the ‘ _Knights of Walpurgis_ ’.
> 
> The month and day for Regulus are based on the Leo Horoscope - a ‘late lion’ - which seemed rather fitting as Regulus means ‘little lion’.
> 
> * - Not already known middle names were based on previous family member’s names.


	2. Prologue - The Ancient and Noble House of Black, Part 2

****

** Prologue - The Ancient and Noble House of Black, Part 2 **

 

**\- } * * * { -**

 

Regulus Arcturus Black had known from a young age that a lot was expected of him. Nothing less than would be required of any son– _any_ _child_ of the Ancient and Noble House of Black; one of the oldest pureblood families of the Great British Wizarding World.

A Black did not gawk. Nor did a Black complain. Nor did a Black act like a lesser wizard, or worse, a half-breed, or - _Salazar forbid_ \- a _mudblood_. _No_ , a Black commanded respect. A Black maintained a level of decorum and sense of propriety that was not only expected but insisted upon.

So when Regulus was first told about Hermes Perenelle Black he did nothing more than listen and absorb all that Father and Grandfather Arcturus told him. This was undoubtedly wise given than until this moment (being called to Father’s study, a week into his winter holiday from his fourth year at Hogwarts) Regulus Black had never heard of _Hermes Perenelle Black_. It would be foolish to do anything until he had a substantial amount of information. _He_ wasn’t a bloody ( _traitorous_ ) Gryffindor, charging and roaring with no sense of propriety.

The talk did, in fact, give some clarification to the raised voices ( _outbursts_ ) and the subsequent departure ( _storming out_ ) from earlier that week, of Sirius. That and Mother blasting his older brother’s name off the family tapestry in a further rage yesterday, when the full extent of Sirius’ betrayal to the family had become evident.

The yells of ‘ _child’_ and ‘ _toddler’_ heard through the walls also made more sense.

For once Regulus actually had some understanding to his brother’s indignation: _Hermes Black_ is _a child_. While Regulus was _fourteen_ , Hermes Black had turned _five_ three months ago. (It was even stranger to learn visiting the tapestry - _still smoking_ \- after the meeting, that Hermes Black was technically Regulus’ _aunt_. Seeing as she was several years younger than him though, Regulus refused to call her anything except for possibly _cousin_.)

While Regulus was rather reassured that he has not been set up with his cousin Narcissa (Bellatrix was mercifully already married so not an option, and Andromeda was blasted off the tapestry two years ago for having runoff with a _mudblood_ of all things) or most of the pureblooded witches attending Hogwarts, he _was_ taken aback that he is to be affianced to someone _nine_ years his junior ( _and the fact that I am_ fourteen).

And yet Father appeared not the least bit troubled when he informed Regulus of the betrothal contract between Hermes Black and himself, all while Grandfather looked on.

Regulus suspected Grandfather Arcturus’ attendance (in addition to being the _Erus_ of the Black family) was to make sure they have a better control on any possible reaction on Regulus’s part; mainly to prevent a response similar to earlier that week with his brother. (Not that they would; however aghast and displeased Regulus may be, a true Black does _not_ do outbursts.)

Grandfather’s looming presence also made substantially more sense that while it was _Orion_ Black who informed him of this recent development, Regulus knew within seconds that this ‘alliance’ was _Arcturus_ Black’s idea. It also gave a more clear reason to Mother’s absence (in addition to her already very much tested shaky self-control of these last few days). The pursed lips Regulus saw on her face just before entering the study were already a clear indication that this was definitely not _her_ idea.

_Yes_ , most certainly _not_ Walburga Black’s idea. As Regulus continued to listen to his father, he silently wondered if it was more the fact that Hermes was five, was from his Great-uncle Phineas’ line (the one who, while marrying a pureblood, did marry a witch far beneath a member of the Black line, with little to no wealth what’s-so-ever), or the fact that Hermes’ mother was _French_ and _several_ years ( _decades_ ) younger than her husband, that unsettled Mother the most.

On the other hand, knowing his grandfather, Regulus could only assume Arcturus Black had less scruples on the matter by focusing on the _several_ properties and _thousands_ of galleons his cousins (Phineas Black’s sons) had amassed in wineries and other various investments since moving to France.

 

A Black does not gawk, or complain, or act like a lesser wizard. Especially not to the _Erus_ of the family. A Black knows what is expected— _required_ of him. So by the end of the meeting, Regulus gave the required words and nods of understanding and acquiescence, and found himself officially attached to his five year old aunt. He even promised to write to his ‘ _fiancée_ ’.

*****

 

By the third letter (three months since first hearing about Hermes Black) Regulus could undoubtedly state Hermes Black was _odd_.

 

Looking past the fact that she could already read and write well (her writing being definitely not that of a _five_ year old but much more developed, making Regulus more often than not forget exactly how old she was) Regulus found Hermes to be a strange mix of shy, guarded, and older than her years.

Of course, this oddity could be explained, to an extent, by pointing out that she _was_ a pure-blooded witch of the Black family. It could be further explained by the fact that she was mainly being raised by a bachelor-uncle already in his fifties (who most likely had little knowledge of child-rearing), and a ( _French_ ) grandmother twice older (the Bienbon matriarch).

 

The amount Regulus gathered from Hermes’ branch of the family (learned mainly through gossip from Mother and the other pureblood witches of her weekly coven) was actually rather short:

Hermes’ father – [Ophiuchus](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ophiuchus_\(constellation\)) Black – had been at Hogwarts at the same time as Grandfather Pollux, and her Uncle [Hydrus](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hydrus) with several of Regulus’ great-aunts a few years later. (There were also the rumours of an older squib sister, but Aunt Druella wasn’t certain.)

Not long after Grindelwald’s defeat both brothers had moved to the south of France and had started in the wine business, actually doing rather well for themselves. Since then, both of the two Black men’s visits to Wizarding Britain had been brief and sporadic, usually to see their parents living somewhere in Scotland. At some point Ophiuchus Black had met a young French witch (nearly _twenty_ years his junior, according to a rather puffed-up Artemisia Parkinson) and had married her (after being a rogue for a good thirty years). At least the witch was from a respectable wizarding line (even if French): the ‘ _Auguste Famille Bienbon_ ’. There was of course the great-uncle who was Co-president of the ‘[ _Académie française des sorciers_](http://harrypotter.wikia.com/wiki/Acad%C3%A9mie_fran%C3%A7aise_des_sorciers)’. Still, Regulus was more impressed to learn of the Bienbon Grandfather had actually duelled (though had subsequently been killed by) Grindelwald.

Several years into Ophiuchus Black’s marriage to the Bienbon witch, the couple finally had a daughter (with Uncle Ophiuchus already in his fifties): Hermes Perenelle Black. (Mother was somewhat mollified when finding out through Regulus’ enquiries that, while she did have a French mother and did live for the most part in France, Hermes had been born on British soil; even if was in _Scotland_.) Unfortunately, about a year after Hermes’ birth her parents had perished in a flying carriage accident, leaving her in the care of her uncle and maternal grandmother.

 

And yet, Hermes’ peculiarity went beyond these first revelations and subsequent clarifications. Her _strangeness_ also came from the different things that she wrote and revealed in her letters.

With much older (and clearly protective) guardians, as well as not being old enough to go to charms school to meet other young witches her age, it didn’t come to much surprise to Regulus to learn that Hermes only had _two_ friends. _Nixie_ , who Regulus quickly understood was her house-elf (inherited from her parents), and a boy called ‘ _Cissan_ ’, the letters giving the impression that he was slightly older than Hermes.

Additionally, Regulus was surprised and impressed to read she had already had quite few experiences of accidental magic: making her hair grow the exact length she wanted, accidental-apparition on the roof of her uncle’s mansion when an escaped pig had started chasing her, and turning her _grand-mere_ ’s hair bright green when she had angered Hermes.

Hermes also seemed to _know_ things; things she could not have possibly known. In his letters, knowing little on what to write to one’s intended or a girl of five, Regulus mainly wrote to about Hogwarts. Subsequently, Hermes’ replies included requests to send her sweets from Honeydukes next time he went to Hogsmeade. Regulus was certain that Honeydukes did not exist in France and that he had not yet touched upon the Hogsmeade weekend trips. In the next letter, when he had revealed being on the Slyntherin Quidditch team, Hermes shared that she would _also_ like to try for the seeker position when she attended Hogwarts. Regulus was certain he never stated which position he played. And after having mentioned starting revisions for his transfiguration exams in his third letter, her reply had included an interest in becoming an animagus when she’s older. Regulus had no memory of telling her Professor McGonagall could turn into a cat.

As the letter exchanges progressed and Hermes clearly started to trust him more, her revelations only added to her oddity. By the time Regulus’ fourth year came to a close, she revealed the strange dreams she often had: of great big black dogs, of graveyards, of giants riding on a flying ‘ _motorcycle_ ’ (Regulus having to research and find out this was a form of muggle transportation – _how does a secluded five year old witch know about muggle devices_?), of a scary wizard with no nose and red-eyes, of a green light, of a woman screaming...

Regulus’ concern only grew when she let slip that she could see _thestrals_. He had assumed that since her parents died as a baby she wouldn’t have a recollection of their death, and yet no one else in her vicinity has died since who would explain her seeing the creatures. It worried him even more when it came to pass that she not only knew about Azkaban but also about Dementors, even having had several nightmares involving them.

 

For the most part though, their correspondence progressed well enough (to Grandfather Arcturus’ approval), with Regulus actually finding himself appreciating the letter exchange.

In fact things progressed so well that, nearing the end of his summer holiday before fifth year, Regulus received an invitation to Uncle Hydrus’ main estate in southern France, to finally meet Hermes.

 

*****

 

Only upon arrival was Regulus reminded (rather brutally) that Hermes was not yet six.

She was a small girl, shorter and skinnier that he would expect even a five year old to be. Truthfully, Regulus knew he was also startled by the brightest green eyes he had ever seen, which were only enhanced further by her pale skin and raven hair. Their vibrancy felt as if they were piercing into Regulus’ very soul. (There was also something familiar about the shape and colour of her eyes that Regulus couldn’t quite put his finger on.) It was impossible not to also notice the intensity of her smile when first greeting Regulus. The young witch seemed so genuinely pleased – _elated_ \- to finally meet _him_. (Regulus wasn’t sure he ever met anyone that seemed so truly happy to meet him; not even Father and Mother.) A while greeting her in turn (in a more formal manner) he couldn’t help but feel a pang in his chest knowing that she would be encouraged to suppress such blatant emotions as she grew up.

 

During Regulus’ ten day visit, Hydrus Black’s protectiveness of his niece and charge became all the more blatant. (The several portraits within the villa were also clearly there to keep an eye on them, especially Hermes.) It was obvious that Hermes hardly went beyond the family estates. There were only the few mentions of her travelling to the family property in Scotland. Regulus imagined that even these had reduced since the passing of both paternal grandparents.

And then there were the obvious secrets this branch of the family was clearly keeping, even from the rest of the Blacks (something both Grandfather and his parents had mentioned before he had gone).

While Regulus met ‘Nixie’ (and consequentially felt that he should present Kreacher to Hermes), when he asked on Cissan, it was with a bowed head, full of sadness, that Hermes mumbled that Uncle Hydrus had thought it best that Regulus not meet her other companion.

She also mentioned a private tutor rather than going to Charms School like any other pureblooded witch. Regulus privately thought it a shame. It was obvious that the girl was _lonely_. Hermes had made it more than clear in their first greeting as well as subsequently showing him all her favourite hide outs with an over-eagerness. Not to mention the incident on the third day of his stay when Hermes became greatly troubled when learning it was his birthday. Since she hadn’t known, it was understandable that she didnt have anything for him. Something that Regulus tried to explain to her. Nevertheless, her distress led to a burst of (not-so-accidental, Regulus was certain) magic. Hermes intertwined two white [alstroemeria](https://www.teleflora.com/meaning-of-flowers/alstroemeria) together, before freezing the lot into a elegant brooch for him. The result made Regulus think of a [caduceus](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Caduceus).

 

The only thing that truly bothered Regulus during his stay though was Hermes’ anger when he used the term ‘ _mudblood_ ’. While she didn't comment on muggles, she refused to hear _any_ despairing comments on anything magic. When Regulus had insisted, she dared turn his hair bright red (another burst on not-so-accidental magic – she _knew_ how he felt about the Weasleys), and ended up calling Regulus ‘ _Little Lion_ ’ (a play on his name that she would subsequently reuse every time she got angry with him) for the rest of the day.

Reflecting on it later in his room, Regulus supposed that being separated from the main branch of the family, as well as immersed in a foreign wizarding culture, especially with her _grand-mere_ being a constant presence in her life, Hermes had less of a grasp on what was correct conduct of a British pureblooded witch. In truth, he also wondered how much her French family influenced her upbringing, especially given their motto ‘ _Noblesse Oblige_ ’; the concept being that those of higher standing are compelled to look after the welfare of those lesser than them, not only that but that it _prevents_ those more powerful from ‘ _mistreating’_ their inferiors.

Regulus reassured himself though. Hermes was still young. It would be up to him (especially if he was to be her future husband) to properly guide her through the proper ways of a pureblooded witch of the Ancient and Noble House of Black was to comport herself (definitely _not_ turning her intended’s hair the same colour as a blood-traitorous _Weasley_ ).

Thankfully the rest of his stay continued with no other disagreements. In fact, when they said their goodbyes, Regulus heading for his fifth year at Hogwarts, Hermes to start on private lessons, he definitely noticed the tears barely restrained in the young witch’s bright green eyes. He assumed only the promise of the letters he would continue to send her as well as a possible visit next year kept them from falling.

 

*****

 

As promised, as soon as Regulus stepped aboard the Hogwart’s Express he made his way to the back of the train, chose an empty compartment (adding the few privacy and silence wards he knew), and started writing a letter to Hermes. The letter started with a brief account of the three days he had spent at Grimmauld Place (though he didn’t not mention the conversation he had with Grandfather Arcturus) before going once more into all he was expecting of the coming year.

Of course it had to happen that not long after the train started moving the seclusion of his space was disturbed by a sixth year, Snape, coming in (frustratingly easily working past his wards). With barely a sneer in Regulus’ direction, the older student silently levitated his (clearly second hand) trunk on the shelves above before taking over the opposite bench, sinking his large nose behind an even larger book.

While Regulus suspected that the half-blood loathed the idea of being in such close proximity to a visual reminder of one of his Gryffindor tormentors, he assumed the appeal of Regulus’ compartment being possibly the only place Sirius would avoid (or possibly even the fact that Regulus was one of the few wizards who wouldn’t mention the incident at the end of last year between his older brother’s gang and the wizard) was greater than his aversion. The half-blood was a Slytherin after all.

Still, this didn’t stop Regulus silently venting for a good hour. He even added a few lines expressing his frustration to Hermes about his peace being disturbed and his wards being so easily quelled. Only after said hour did Regulus realise that the other occupant was thankfully only interested in his reading and privacy. Regulus also appreciated the (stronger) wards Snape had placed on the compartment.

 

It was only the next day that Regulus truly found himself regretting the sixth year joining his carriage, and subsequently mentioning him to Hermes. Her reply coming at the end of breakfast included a clear-cut encouragement to _befriend_ Severus Snape. Even when Regulus pointed out that the older student was _half-blood_ , or that Sirius and his gang for some reason considered the sixth year their arch-nemesis in his subsequent letters, Hermes _insisted_. The little-witch continually inquired on the progress of his ‘future-friendship’ (and added ‘ _little lion_ ’ several times within her letters).

In the end, Regulus conceded. When he truly thought on Hermes’ (incessant) battering, he realised there wasn’t much he actually knew about the half-blood. At least not much more than his blood status, lack of wealth (clear from the state of his clothes), and his rivalry with the Potter and Sirius duo. Other than that, Regulus only knew that he was supposedly studious, and that for some reason Lucius Malfoy remained in contact with the sixth year, even though he had left Hogwarts several years ago. When doing further digging, it did also reassure him that the sixth year seemed to have also finally stopped his questionable companionship with the muggle-born Gryffindor that Potter was obsessed with (— _small mercies that it’s not Sirius obsessed with the muggle-born_ ).

 

Of course ultimately the issue only ended up adding to Regulus’ previous theories of Hermes possessing seer abilities. Like quite a few others, this latest suggestion had proved more than fruitful.

True, there was tension and suspicion (even Snape sending several jinxes his way once) when Regulus had first approached him. (Regulus assumed most of the sixth years mistrust and glare was due to the simple fact that Regulus was _related_ to Sirius.) Nevertheless, by [Yule](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Yule) Regulus considered Snape a close acquaintance, and by [Ēostre](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/%C4%92ostre) he actually regarded him as a friend.

If nothing else, Snape was a truly a talented wizard. Of course Regulus had heard things before, mainly through the Slug Club (where Snape usually sulk-sneered in a corner) and stories of the six-year Gryffindors. Yet he had never realised _how_ talented Snape was, especially in defence and potions. The sixth year had actually invented several of his own spells (Regulus _might_ have croaked like a [common toad](http://harrypotter.wikia.com/wiki/Common_Toad) when it was revealed that Snape had invented the ‘ _[levicorpus](http://harrypotter.wikia.com/wiki/Levicorpus)_ ’ jinx) and had done several improvements on numerous potions in the curriculum. Even if Snape only showed him the bare minimum of them while keeping the rest to himself, Regulus appreciated the six-year’s magical ingenuity too much to be truly irate of the older student’s reluctance to share all his inventions.

In the same line, Snape proved a good study partner; not only was he magically knowledgeable but, unlike a surprising number of Slytherin, Snape processed the ability to work _silently_ , and actually respected other’s privacy. And when Snape mentioned the books and the mediations in mind-clearing he had started on last summer in developing mind magic, Regulus was easily convinced to also start learning this more obscure branch of magic. The two ended up deciding to develop it together; working together through the meditation techniques, testing each other’s occlumency shields (Snape’s always better than his)...

Regulus was also rather surprised finding himself enjoying the sixth-year’s quick wit and dry (usually sarcastic) sense of humour. Moreover, while Snape was hopeless at Quidditch (though surprisingly he did attend two of Regulus’ games rather than lock himself in one of the potion labs), Regulus found him to be a more than competent opponent at wizard chess.

His association with the sixth year did also open a link to some of the older students from notable families. (—Though Regulus was not blind to the fact that having become the new Black heir with Sirius disowned was also a big reason.)

So ultimately, while Snape assisted in improving Regulus’ magic abilities as well as his standing with the higher years, Regulus continued (most likely where Malfoy had left off) in educating the half-blood in the decorum and the intricacies of Wizarding society that he still clearly lacked (the muggleborn and his muggle father most likely having something to do with this blaring defiency)— _Salazar forbid_ Snape learn from Mulciber and Avery in his year.

Hermes, of course, was more than pleased by the development of their friendship. In fact, through Hermes encouragements, Regulus ended up also helping in improving Snape’s general appearance and behaviour.

He mainly guided the sixth year (through subtle comments and remarks) on how to emit a less prickly demeanour when expressing himself. As for his look, Regulus didn’t think he would quickly forget the particular Saturday morning of February when (by Hermes’ _direct_ ‘orders’ and Regulus for some reason indulging her) he had handed-over the attached additional piece of parchment that Hermes had sent him to Snape for him to read. The paper stated, in no uncertain terms, that if Regulus was truly cared for Snape he would have the courage to tell his friend to wash his hair more often, not to mention if Snape was such a ‘ _potions prodigy_ ’, he would be able to find a potion to help take better care of it, protecting it from potion fumes and such. Snape’s jaw had clenched, eyes boring down on the words, before the paper had burst into flames. Yet, a day later, Regulus swore that when Snape came down for breakfast, his hair was cleaner (less greasy) than the previous day (to continue to be less so in the following months). (On the other hand, Snape’s jaw would always slightly twitch each time Regulus received a new letter from Hermes.)

There was also the backing Regulus provided in getting Snape a potion apprenticeship for the summer months (not only for him to get money of his own, but to also get him away from a home life Regulus suspected through the few comments Snape had let slip throughout the year was worse than his own). Yes, while Walburga Black would most likely kiss a hippogriff before she would let even a half-blood step foot in Grimmauld Place, Regulus was able to convince Father into writing a letter of recommendation for Snape (in addition to the one Slughorn had been more than happy to provide). Several months later, at the end of the summer, while he didn’t ever verbally state it, Regulus knew Snape was grateful to have been able to buy his very own somewhat-plain but well-tailored dress robes (with Regulus’ guidance during the visit to Madam Malkin’s shop, _of course_ ), after also receiving an invitation to Malfoy’s wedding to cousin Narcissa.

 

*****

 

Hermes’ approval of Regulus’ friendship with Snape only made it more frustrating that the little-witch did not care much for some of the other friendships and associations Regulus had at Hogwarts (usually shared with Snape), even though most were with purebloods from old lineages; _Rosier, Carrow, Crouch, Mulciber, Avery_... (Especially for _Crouch_ ; Regulus never understood what made Hermes so wary of the rather bright Ravenclaw in his year— _his father is_ Head _of the[DMLE](http://harrypotter.wikia.com/wiki/Department_of_Magical_Law_Enforcement)_ _by Salazar’s sake_!) In the same way, while she seemed alright with cousin Narcissa, her letters made it obvious of her scepticism of Malfoy, and her blatant aversion of cousin Bellatrix and her husband. (Though Regulus reluctantly admitted that Bellatrix was rather... _unhinged_. At least _she_ hadn’t married a muggleborn).

The worse, though, was when Regulus would mention the powerful wizard that currently rising within Wizarding Britain. Even when Regulus talked of the wizard’s knowledge, of his magical abilities (and of the hints and rumours to his ancestral lineage), of the travels he had done, or the fact that he was the chance Britain had been waiting for to restore the supremacy of the wizarding world and its traditions and values... Even as Regulus continued to collect all the articles regarding the Dark Lord as well as listen to the higher years talk of him and his followers (and including the odd passage in the _Daily Prophet_ or seventh year discussion in his letters to Hermes)... Even _then_ Hermes remained unconvinced, if not _suspicious_ of the Dark Lord.

It was even more maddening when her reservations not only continued doing Regulus’ stay in August after fifth, as well as during his last two years at Hogwarts; becoming even more pronounced when Regulus started attending the events organised by certain of the Dark Lord’s supporters (two which the wizard actually attended).

 

Still, given their rapport on all other things (as well as their intertwined future) he tried not to let the issue to ruin their friendship. Something that Hermes thankfully seemed to agree with. (There was no point in thinking over the fact that Regulus doubted Grandfather Arcturus would allow his plans for them and the Black family be broken just because of their differences. Besides, Hermes was still young, not yet in school. Regulus had time to convince her.)

Restraining too many mentions of most of his friends and associates back at Hogwarts, Regulus instead made sure they focused more on their own friendship. In her letters as well as during his summer visits, Hermes continued to tell him of her life in southern France, of Nixie and Cissan, of her progress with her private tutor, of the very occasional visits to Paris with her _grand-mère_...

In turn Regulus related more stories of his own childhood (surprising himself with even a few mentions of Sirius), though most of what he talked about was his years at Hogwarts. He truly couldn’t wait for her to experience it for herself in a few years as well as finally meet other witches and wizards her own age (hopefully some that would help guide her along the correct path). Even if there continued to be the odd thing that she seemed to already know somehow, her own longing to finally see the magical castle Regulus continually talked about was palpable.

As the months, letters and visits continued they only became closer. Closer than Regulus would have thought he would ever be to a witch nine years his junior. Closer and far more protective of her than Regulus considered himself of any other witch or wizard, even in his own parents.

Silently, he did admit to himself that Hermes’ own attachment and sometimes hero-worthy praise of him was also big part of it ( _if only she could stop being as hard-headed as a[graphorn](http://harrypotter.wikia.com/wiki/Graphorn) on certain matters_ ). Hermes had only been full of praise (more so than his parents) when he showed her his OWL results (and later on his NEWT results), as well as his Slytherin Quidditch wins.

It was more than that though. It was that it was the first time something was just _his_. That he was not just the pale imitation of his older brother. Something that Sirius had not tainted first. Sirius who had been even the parents favourite before all the expectations had fallen on Regulus... Sirius who was taller, better looking, more charming, better at magic, better at Quidditch... Sirius who always had to be in the limelight, in the centre of everything... Even Uncle Alphard made his preference for Sirius clear when he left all of his money to him (before being blasted of the Family tapestry by Mother for the trouble).

And yet, while Hermes should have gone to Sirius (something that always left Regulus’ mouth sour when he thought about it) Sirius the hot-headed fool had rejected her before even trying to know her, meet her, talk to her... No, instead, just once at the end of Regulus’ fourth year Sirius had cornered him (none of his friends with him) and had growled at him, going on about following Father and Mother’s every word like a good little snake, even ready to marry a toddler. (There had been no point in telling Siruis that he had abandoned him first for that gang of idiots, abandoned their parents and family for a bunch of muggle-borns and Gryffindors...)

It still was unexpected that Regulus found that he was ready to share anything and everything with her, and know that she would not judge him, not look at him differently, not think of ways to use his secrets... She would just be there, read to listen as well as share her own fears and dreams. Regulus even found himself revealing to the then seven year old that he had nearly been a hat-stall not because the Sorting Hat had hesitated between Slytherin and _Ravenclaw_ , but between Slytherin and _Gryffindor_ ; something no one else knew. _Naturally_ , after such a heart-heavy revelation, Hermes had just chuckled lightly, before hugging him and stating _of course_ , why else would he be named after the the brightest star in the [constellation](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Constellation) of [Leo](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Leo_\(constellation\)). Regulus did appreciate that she then quickly pointed out that in Latin,  _regulus_  also meant "little king", a term for a [basilisk](http://harrypotter.wikia.com/wiki/Basilisk), to clearly reassure him that he did belong in Slytherin.

He was also touched that following his confession, Hermes also revealed a secret of her own (after making him promise not to tell anyone). She shows him the strange scar she has; a jagged scar, similar to the shape of a lightning bolt, on her chest, just above her heart. Her _grand-mère_ was apparently convinced the scar was a result from the carriage accident that killed her parents, however Hermes insisted that it has been there since her birth (or at least that was what Uncle Hydrus stated).

It was not the most unexpected of her revelations though. _No_ , that spot was reserved for when, on Regulus’ seventeenth birthday, Hermes finally introduced him to _Cissan_. The meeting was unexpected not only because her second friend, someone Regulus had always thought to be rather a sardonic snobby boy-wizard who thought a bit too much of himself based on Hermes’ letters, turned out to be a _[aesculapian snake](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Aesculapian_snake)_ (no wonder Regulus had thought he would fit well into Slytherin), but also because Hermes revealed herself to be a _parselmouth_ ; a gift she apparently shared with Uncle Hydrus, as well as her father and paternal grandmother when they had been alive. - Once it had mentally clicked that her side of the family (in addition to being named after stars or constellations like most members of the Black) did all also have names in some way linked to _snakes_ , Regulus ended up wondering if the ‘ _far-too-below-his-station_ ’ witch that Great Uncle Phineas had ran off with was actually a descendant of the great Salazar Slytherin (and thus also the Dark Lord, the only other living parselmouth Regulus knew of).

While Regulus (rather reluctantly) holds on to her secret (not even telling Severus), he does gift her for her eighth birthday a _Brosimum guianense_ ; a magical type of [snakewood](http://harrypotter.wikia.com/wiki/Schlangenholz) plant, which not only was rather resilient and had powerful healing properties, but was said to possess an affinity to snakes and parselmouths, even be protective of them. (He does also send a small crate full of rats and moles put under a temporary stasis spell for Cissan).

 

*****

 

Of course even their friendship had to be ruined in some way.

 

It was when Regulus told her he had taken the Dark Mark.

He had waited. He had been slower to join the Dark Lord’s ranks than others had been. He kept his promise to her and had waited till he graduated and had taken the time to truly thinking about it, not just follow blindly.

And yet, even for the entire wait he gave the reflection to decide if _yes_ this was truly what he wanted... Even for all the grief he gave himself (not to mention heckles and hexes he received) for making the Dark Lord wait (even Severus had not understood his restrain)... Even while his parents supported (more than supported) Regulus joining the Dark Lord’s ranks... Even for all that, she turned on him.

 

The eight year old didn’t explicitly state it, but he could read between the lines. He could feel her dejection and disappointment in the words. She didn’t even call him ‘little lion’ anymore. There was no teasing, just dismay and sadness.

 

Why could she not be happy for him? Not proud of him? He had been chosen; it was an honour to have been _marked_ by the Dark Lord.

 

But what did she know?

She was only eight.

 

*****

 

Regulus felt sick.

His head was spinning. His stomach was heaving. His hands were shaking.

 

For not the first time he wondered on Hermes possessing Seer abilities.

 

To prove his loyalty after having taken so long to actually take the mark, he had eagerly accepted the Dark Lord’s request to use Kreacher. It had been an _honour_ , an _honour_ for him and for Kreacher.

That was before Kreacher returned. Before Kreacher told him of a cave, of a black lake, of an island with a dark potion, of Inferi, of ...

A _Horcrux_.

 

Never had Regulus been more grateful for Hermes berating him all those years ago in forming a friendship with Severus Snape, if only for the simple fact that while his Occlumency would never be (not now anyway) as good as Severus, nor could he ever dream of reaching the same levels as the Dark Lord, they were there and they were strong. (Regulus didn’t doubt that both Severus and the Dark Lord would be able to find his every secret, but held to the belief that they would only discover them if they were looked for them specifically.)

 

He ordered Kreacher to hide; to never to leave Grimmauld Place and only to show himself to Father and Mother, only when they called for him, in addition to Regulus (-not even to the paintings).

As of himself, he couldn’t turn to anyone. Never had Regulus found himself so lost and alone.

Hermes in all her fore-seeing was only _eight_. Eight, and innocent and pure; not to be endangered by his idiocy and stubbornness of not listening to her warnings. Perhaps it was best that she go to Beaubaton, like her _grand-mère_ had been pushing for; far from all that was happening her in Britain.

The same went for his parents; he couldn’t endanger them either. (Regulus even actually found himself slightly grateful that Father had contracted a case of [Dragon Pox](http://harrypotter.wikia.com/wiki/Dragon_Pox) some time earlier in the year as well as later succumbing to it, giving him a reason for not acting his usual self.)

He only briefly considered going to Sirius. But even if he was able to find his brother and not be cursed on the spot, it didn’t change the fact that for all his talent and smarts (he had always been smarter and more talented than Regulus) being a hot-headed-Gryffindor Sirius would most likely run head first into things and get himself killed within a day of Regulus telling him anything.

He considered going to the Erus of the family, before also conceding that for all his magical knowledge and gifts, even Granfather Arcturus would be no match against the Dark Lord, but would most likely only attract the wrath of the Dark Lord and his followers onto the Black family. Nor would he be able to explain his sudden interest in such an evil magical creation, if he went to Grandfather (or any other member of the family) to know more about Horcruxes (especially how to destroy them).

 

As of the rest...

Essentially all his friends and associates are followers, if not supporters of the Dark Lord. He couldn’t even go to Severus, the one he was now the closest to. No, even Severus was still as devoted to the Dark Lord as ever. Only a month ago he had secretly told Regulus of a prophecy he had heard of the Dark Lord that he had quickly related to their master.

 

Yes, there was no one, expect for possibly Kreacher. Kreacher who the Dark Lord believed was already dead. This in its self only reminded Regulus that he would never be able to leave the Death Eaters and survive.

 

*****

 

He waited till after Hermes ninth birthday.

He spent the whole three days of [Samhain](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Samhain) on Uncle Hydrus’ estate in France with Hermes and Cissan. He owed her that.

True, he had also wanted to make sure the house-elf had fully recovered from the ordeal in the cave, but even Kreacher was secondary to Hermes. Hermes, and the fact he finally had the chance to celebrate her birthday (and Samhain) with her. (He had always been at Hogwarts in the previous years.) Regulus also appreciated the fact that while nine did not have the same magical significance as seven, the runes representation of the number was a _[hydra](http://harrypotter.wikia.com/wiki/Hydra)_.

So while the Dark Lord had looked into ways to deny Death (even seems to taunt Death with the naming of his followers) Regulus and Hermes celebrated the souls of the dead and the inevitable cycle of all things.

 

Yes, he waited till after Hermes’ ninth birthday but for all his planning and delaying he couldn’t let it drag on, lest someone (mainly the Dark Lord) realise the knowledge he had.

Barely two weeks after returning from France, he went to find Kreacher in his cupboard.

 

**\- { * } -**

 

_Sirius,_

_I know upon receiving this letter you’ve already cursed it, were even tempted to burn it, even without reading its contents. Hence why the protective charms as well as ordering Kreacher to not leave your side until you opened and read the whole of it._

_I am not here to write about our parents or the family, or of my ‘going along’ with everything our parents told us, or of your own path. I only send a request — an appeal._

_I call on the older brother who would let me share his bed when I had nightmares; who lied to Mother, telling her it had been your idea when we went into the square’s park to see muggleborn children for ourselves; who told me of the magic of Hogwarts; who was actually cocksure enough to befriend a werewolf. (- Do you and your friends really think that you were being subtle, all those years of sneaking the school grounds? Though, to be fair, how barely anyone realised there was a werewolf at Hogwarts does also leave me questioning the intelligence of most of the Wizarding world as well as the standard of our education system. In any case, if you didn’t want me to find out about you becoming an animagus, maybe you shouldn’t have left so many dog hairs lying about the house, or for that matter transforming into a bloody mutt and falling asleep!)_

_Please do one thing for me – look after Hermes. She might come out as be odd or even cagey, but she’s special. I don’t think I truly ever understood how special she is. Yes, you have walked away from the family, but she is only nine. She doesn’t know of the horrors of the world yet. Please look after her if you can._

_Your brother,_

     Regulus 

 

**\- { * } -**

 

Somehow Sirius found himself as Padfoot at the top the hill, looking over the small group of immaculate black robes huddled around the hole in the ground (pointedly ignoring the tall slim figure that Sirius knew was his mother).

He wasn’t all that surprised that it was only a hand full of people.

He had heard his father had died a little over three months ago, explaining his absence.

He was grateful to note that there were no Death Eaters present (or at least not that he knew of). Only the older Black generations had made an appearance, everyone over the age of fifty. Well all except of a tiny figure, clutching the hand of the large black form to her right. Even from a distance, or even having never met her, Sirius knew this was Hermes Black. The Hermes Black that, a life time ago, his family tried to thrust on him at the same time as their twisted pure-blood and ‘ _toujours pure_ ’ ideals. The Hermes Black that Regulus asked him to look after.

His tail gave an involuntary twitch. Sirius still had marks from that crazy elf when he had apparated in Sirius’ flat, paler than usual and definitely more unhinged than the last time Sirius had seen him. (He also still wondered what _exactly_ Regulus had said to Kreacher for him to actually harm a wizard—a Black at that, even _if_ he was a " _blood-traitor_ " and " _breaking Mistress’s heart_ ".)

_Regulus_...

He looked down at the black box now hovering, slowly descending, into the hole.

He had heard it was an empty coffin – the thought only makes him angrier. _Damn_ _those f— death suckers_ , they couldn’t even leave a piece of his little brother to be buried.

_Damn_ his parents.

_Damn_ Regulus for being soft enough to believe them, believe all of them.. _._

 

He wasn’t certain how long he remained there looking on. The next thing Sirius was truly conscious of was the feeling of the grass beneath his paws, still damp from the first snows, as he ran as fast as he could in the opposite direction.

He ran until he was panting, his tongue lolling out. He ran until he couldn’t any longer.

Panting, chest aching, legs numb, he tilted his head back and let out a single empty howl.

 

 

**\- } * * * { -**

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- As a few might have noticed, I have included a few links for certain words/terms/names to add some background info as well as help explain a few decisions I made (as well as possibly hint to future bits of the story) for those who might be interested.
> 
> \- There was a few OC characters that made an appearance in this prologue; some will make a reappearance later in the story.


	3. Prologue - The Ancient and Noble House of Black, Part 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to all those who have already expressed their appreciation of the story.
> 
> Here is a somewhat short last part to the prologue that you will hopefully enjoy.

 

** Prologue - The Ancient and Noble House of Black, Part 3 **

 

**\- } * * * { -**

 

 

The early hours of 31st of October 1981 found a certain Scottish witch -Professor Minerva McGonagall- unable to remain abed.

True the Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was prone to waking up early. The reasons were usually a mix of lessons to plan, papers to grade, making sure students were not roaming the halls (or outside the castle walls), ensuring that students (mainly fifth and seventh years) were not over-working themselves as well as forgetting to eat or sleep (though this was usually later in the year), sometimes even having a quick early chat with her fellow teacher, Professor Pomona Sprout, or answering a letter (usually from her remaining brother or the ever-persistent [Elphinstone Urquart](http://harrypotter.wikia.com/wiki/Elphinstone_Urquart))...

Unfortunately none were the reason sleep remained allusive on this particular morning.

Troubled thoughts plagued her; thoughts of the world outside of her beloved school.

 

Trying not to think about the dark times going on outside the walls of Hogwarts (as well as pointedly ignoring the fresh still crisp copy of the _Daily Prophet_ that had been placed on the side table), the school’s Transfiguration teacher attempted to keep her mind occupied with third year papers.

That was, until a large, beautiful, eagle-owl she did not recognise swooped into the office and landed on her desk. It wasted no time in presenting a letter to Professor McGonagall.

 

Secretly pleased for the distraction, Minerva quickly took the letter, thanking the owl and opened her post.

 

_To Deputy Headmistress Professor McGonagall,_

_It is with regret that I inform you that Miss Hermes Perenelle Black will not be attending Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry at the start of next term._

_Sincerely,_

_Hydrus Nigellus Black_

 

Clear, concise and to the point, just as Minerva tended to like things. And yet she blinked. Blinked a second time before re-reading the words, to then frown.

She placed the letter down on the desk, surprised and confused.

The elegant loopy signature at the bottom stared back at her, as if taunting the witch.

While she didn’t recognize the name ‘ _Hydrus_ ’ she did recognize the last name ‘ _Black_ ’. Other names and faces came to mind: Bellatrix Black, Andromeda Black, Narcissa Black, Sirius Black and Regulus Black.

All past students, and yet only one encouraged the ghost of a smile: _Sirius Black_ , the first Black to be placed in Gryffindor; her own House. She still remembered the howler an eleven year old Sirius Black had received the day after the sorting... as well as another letter she had received several years later, this one from Fleamont Potter, informing Minerva that Sirius had run away from the Black household and now resided with the Potter family.

Another ‘ _scandal’_ came to mind; Andromeda Black—now Andromeda _Tonks_ , having married a muggleborn wizard Minerva had also taught, and thus the young witch was disowned from the ‘ _Noble and Ancient House of Black_ ’.

On the other hand, Bellatrix Black was now Bellatrix _Lestrange_ , and Narcissa Black now Narcissa _Malfoy_. Minerva’s lips pursed. _Lestrange_ and _Malfoy_ : both Death Eaters in her mind. Remembering the older Slytherin witch from her classes, Minerva wouldn’t be at all surprised if Bellatrix turned out to be a Death Eater as well.

As for Regulus Black: _dead_ – killed by Death Eaters when he had tried to defect if rumours were to be believed.

 

She _had_ thought Regulus Black had been the last of the Black line.

 

And yet clearly there was (at least) one more, _Hermes Perenelle Black_. A young witch according to the letter. (Minerva would have assumed a young wizard from the name. _Old Pureblood families and their strange quirks and traditions._ )

 

She looked back at the signature.

_Hydrus Black_.

As far as she knew all members of the Black family had gone to Hogwarts, thus she could only assume _Hydrus_ Black was a student while she had worked at the ministry.

_Slughorn would know_. One could depend on _Horace Slughorn_ to know everything there was to know on the older pureblood families; especially one as old (and powerful) as the Blacks, who tended to go into his house. (She wouldn’t be surprised if Horace had the whole family tree memorized.) Minerva could still recall how put out he had been (though not as much as Walburga Black) when the Sorting hat had yelled _GRYFFINDOR_ instead of the usual _SLYTHERIN_ when the hat had been placed on Sirius Black’s head.

_Hydrus_. A constellation –‘ _the Water Snake’_ \- if she remembered correctly. She suppressed a snort. _Yes_ , this Black would most likely have gone into Horace’s House.

Minerva would definitely be asking the old Potions Master a few questions.

 

First though she had to check on a certain Book... and speak with Albus.

 

*****

 

Minerva was in the Small Locked Tower, the Book of Acceptance open in front of her. Passing several dates – and _Black_ names – she found the source to her query in the entries born in 1970:

31 st of October 1970 – Hermes Perenelle Black

The young witch had been born exactly eleven years ago today. Which in a way explained receiving the letter _today_ : Hydrus Black had obviously waited till the last possible moment to reply in the negative to Miss Black’s entry to Hogwarts*.

 

*****

 

“ _Well_?”

 

Minerva patience was dimming. Granted it had ever since receiving the letter, to then checking the Book of Admittance, to now sitting in the Headmaster’s office, waiting for Albus Dumbledore to say something.

_Anything_.

It wasn’t everyday that someone _declined_ an invitation to attend _Hogwarts_. And Minerva had never heard of a wizarding family (especially one as old as the Blacks) to decline.

Not to mention, Minerva _had_ noticed one particular portrait (wearing the telling green and silver Slytherin colours) having not looked pleased when she had first informed Albus of the news, showing him the letter. In fact that particular portrait was now empty; clearly having gone to visit one of his other portraits, in all likelihood to find out more information as well. If Albus had noticed either the frown or the previous headmaster’s departure, he had given no indication.

 

“My dear Minerva, I am not sure what you want me to say.” His eyes twinkled at her through the half-moon spectacles, “The letter is quite clear: Miss Hermes Black will not be joining Hogwarts next year. Whether Mr Hydrus Black will either have the child home-schooled or sent to another school it is entirely out of our hands.”

“Do you not have _any_ thoughts on the matter?”

“Well... if she is sent to one of the other schools in Europe, I doubt either Mörk** or Olympe would be willing to reveal to if they are taking in Miss Black.”

Minerva raised a single eyebrow, “Would they not be tempted to _gloat_?”

“And be at the possible wrath of House Black?— _No_ , I am more than certain Miss Black’s education will be kept under wraps.”

Clearly seeing that Minerva wasn’t still completely satisfied, Dumbledore tried a different approach, his voice this time becoming more sombre, the ever-present twinkle in his eye dimmed, “Minerva, with recent events, are you truly all that surprised that this Hydrus Black decided against sending his charge to Hogwarts?”

At the remark, Minerva gave pause.

In these dangerous times it _was_ understandable for people to worry where was still safe for them and their family. But Hogwarts was supposed to be the safest place in Britain. _Albus Dumbledore_ was supposedly the only one this dark wizard feared.

And yet, there was something in Albus’ remark that made her wonder if Hydrus Black was keeping his charge away from Dumbledore, or from You-Know-Who and his followers... or from both.

 

Minerva gave a sigh and a small nod of acceptance, taking the letter back.

It was probably time for her to head to the Great Hall for breakfast anyway. Besides, she still wanted to speak with Slughorn.

 

She gave Albus a second nod and left the office, not knowing that by early morning the next day that all thoughts of the letter would be forgotten, classes would be cancelled, and that the next evening she would be having an altogether very different conversation with the headmaster about You-Know-Who and another wizarding child.

 

**\- } * * * { -**

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * - With regards to the letter being sent/received on the 31st of Oct and Hydrus Black waiting till the last possible moment to answer: for this story I am going with the organisation that you receive your letter about a couple of months before your eleventh birthday, and you, your parent or guardian have until the date of your eleventh birthday to confirm if you will be attending Hogwarts or not.
> 
> I dont actually believe that is the case in the canon (- rather you receive a letter sometime in June-July before you are to go to Hogwarts and have until the 31st of July to reply) but its what worked for this to be plausible with the story-line
> 
> ** - ‘ _Mörk_ ’ – means ‘dark’ in Swedish. Since I assumed that in 1981 Igor Karkaroff has yet to become headmaster of Durmstrang, I invented a name to his predecessor.


	4. Chapter 1 - Hermes Black

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to those who have already appreciated this story either through kudos and/comments as well as bookmarking it. This chapter was rather a headache to complete, but hopefully you will enjoy it, and not find it too convoluted.
> 
> Seeing as Hermes is half-French and a parseltongue there will be quite a few moments where she will be talking in either language (others will follow/be added later on). So, similar to a few other stories I’ve read, I created an indication/annotation of sorts:
> 
> \- When people are speaking in English, writing and quotes will be normal.
> 
> \- When speaking in {“French”}
> 
> \- When speaking in :: **_parseltongue_** ::
> 
> For the names with links outside those of pre-existing people in the Harry Potter-Wiki universe – these aren’t the people themselves but rather my inspiration-etymology for the name of characters that don’t exist in the Canon Universe, in hoping you would find them as useful/amusing as I had in finding them.

 

****

** Chapter 1 – Hermes Black **

 

**\- } * * * { -**

 

_The most beautiful stories always start with wreckage_. - Jack London

 

**\- } * * * { -**

 

{“ _Hermes! Louis! Hermes! Louis_!”}*

 

At the rapid calling Hermes looked up to see [Josèphine ‘Fifi’ Marat](http://harrypotter.wikia.com/wiki/Josephine_Marat)** rushing towards their table.

As the witch drew close, another voice from Hermes’ right muttered, {“If Madame Austèrie catches you running through the galleries, she will scold you, _again_ , Josèphine.”}

Hermes gave a quick glance to the boy sitting next to her: Louis Toubeau. The young wizard was –unsurprisingly- hidden behind a large tome. Unlike Louis, who tended to be a stickler to the rules, Hermes couldn’t help but match Fifi’s own grin as the other witch righted herself, all while still panting. Her cheeks slightly rosy, she waved a hand in the air, unconcerned, {“Never mind ‘ _Madame_ _Atrocious_ ’, did you guys hear: apparently there’s going to be a _vampire_ at the feast tonight!”}

Hermes smile only got bigger. Fifi, muggleborn, was enthusiastic about _all_ magic. _Especially_ flying. Although, in this last week, ever since hearing about the celebrations, it seemed that Samhain (or ‘ _Allhallowtide_ ’, as most of the school tended to call it) might just be a close second. Similar to Samhain at home, the celebrations were to start tonight, on All Hallow’s Eve, with a feast, to continue all through tomorrow, All Hallow’s Day, with a whole set of games and activities having been planned through the castle and in Beau[hameau](https://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/hameau), the wizarding-village in the valley below, as classes were cancelled***.

Still not looking up from his book, Louis spoke, {“Did _Lacroix_ tell you this? If so, I wouldn’t believe him”} his misgivings clear in his tone.

{“ _No_!”}, Fifi huffed back. {“I overheard Madame [Gallia](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gaul) and Monsieur [Amphora](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Amphora_\(unit\)) on my way here. Amphora was going on about the batches of blood and blood-replenishers that had been ordered for the feast, Gallia then grumbled about ‘ _blood-suckers_ ’.”}

This time, Louis did look up, {“Gallia and Amphora, you say?”}

Madame [Gallia](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gaul) and Monsieur [Amphora](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Amphora_\(unit\)), their teachers in Magical History and Potions respectively, were definitely a better source of information than [_Alain Lacroix_](http://harrypotter.wikia.com/wiki/Alain_Lacroix)*^, a third year wizard who, Hermes had quickly figured out, liked to pull pranks, especially on unknowing first years.

Louis’ face turned pensive, {“I wonder if it who it could be. Perhaps they got [Lorcan d'Eath](http://harrypotter.wikia.com/wiki/Lorcan_d%27Eath)^? – Not a full vampire, but I heard he does have a preference for blood and raw meat, rather than more human food?”}

Fifi’s eyes widened, {“N-not a _full_ vampire?”}

{“Yes. Vampires can [breed with humans](http://harrypotter.wikia.com/wiki/Half-breed), making their children part-vampires. [D' Eath](http://harrypotter.wikia.com/wiki/Lorcan_d%27Eath), is just one such individual-”} Louis confirmed with a nod of affirmation and authority, before going into a rather long winded explanation about how exactly part-vampires happened.

Hermes, for herself, held back a giggle at the somewhat pompous image he gave out (as well as Fifi’s wide-eyed stare and gaping, both which only continued to grow as the mini-lecture). Louis’ tone was also eerily similar to Cissan’s when he was in one of his ‘ _I-can’t-believe-how-moronic- humans-are-but-at-least-I-can-educate-one-of-you-into-being-a-less-ignorant-biped-fool_ ’ tantrums. In all honesty, somewhat similar to Cissan with herself, while Louis could easily get exasperated with Fifi, Hermes believed that one of the main reasons he put up with the overexcited-overeager witch was that he loved being the voice of knowledge (not to mention after two brothers and four cousins all older than him, whether he realised it or not, Louis did also like having the attention for once).

Impromptu sermon about vampires over, Louis glanced at his watch. {“We should start heading to Greenhouse Three. I, for one, want to arrive early enough to get a good seat. Madame [Monocot](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Monocotyledon) promised that we would be studying [Spiky Bushes](http://harrypotter.wikia.com/wiki/Spiky_Bush) today,”} before starting to put his books away.

Fifi’s face turned slightly apprehensive, most likely at the prospect of studying something described as ‘spiky’. Nevertheless, she picked her own bag from where she had dropped it earlier. Following their actions, Hermes quickly packed her own quills, parchments and books spread across the table. She had just only swung her bag over shoulders when Fifi stopped abruptly in front of her. She faced Hermes, looking inexplicably shy.

{“Happy Birthday Hermes.”}

Hermes blinked, followed by feeling her face warm up. However, before she could thank Fifi, the other witch pulled out a small wrapped parcel from her robes and presented it to her, her voice still timid, {“I wasn’t sure what to get you... I hope you like it.”}

Hermes blinked a second time, her throat hitching. The warmth running through her suddenly chilled. Her hand unconsciously went to her neck. Only once she felt the familiar cool texture under her fingers did relief run through Hermes. It was still there: the pendant of two white [alstroemeria](https://www.teleflora.com/meaning-of-flowers/alstroemeria)-lilies intertwined together.

Reassured, though her throat definitely suddenly much drier, Hermes quickly took the presented package, making sure to stop her hands from shaking, not wanting the other two to notice her edginess (or at least not more so than they might have already). Going more slowly than would have normally, Hermes opened the shiny red wrapping carefully. A [broom compass](http://harrypotter.wikia.com/wiki/Broom_Compass). She looked back at Fifi, her smile having finally returned, {“Thank you so much Fifi, it-its beautiful”} her voice choked slightly.

{“ _Really_?} The other witch sighed with relief, {“I was worried you already had one... seeing as you already fly so well.”}

{“No, no, it’s great. Thank you Fifi.”}, giving the other witch another bigger smile, now that she was finally regaining her bearings, before quickly remembering to give Fifi the [_bise_](https://www.thelocal.fr/20171108/whats-in-a-kiss-the-story-of-the-french-bise) on each cheek.

When they turned to follow Louis though, it was to find him standing a little away from them, looking... _dejected_? Before Hermes could ask on his change in demeanour, he quickly stated shortly, {“We should really get going.”}

With a nod, not wanting to irritate Louis further, Hermes quickly put the compass back in its box and slid the lot into her robes.

Straightening her pale blue skirts and checking her [sash](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sash), Hermes quickly made sure her uniform was still as crisp and pristine as ten years of ingrained lectures from Grand-mère, Uncle Hydrus and her tutor demanded of her.

Her examination might have been dragged on for slightly longer than necessary truthfully.

Secretly— _guiltily_ , Hermes welcomed those few moments of silence and seclusion offered to her, before she would have to follow behind the other two to the greenhouse, where she would undoubtedly be met even more people and animation.

 

Although they had been at school nearly two months Hermes was still getting used it all. Just as when she had first arrived in the beautiful castle, she often found herself overwhelmed by everything and everyone.

Of course, given being placed in a whole new environment, it was only natural for the first year students to feel somewhat submerged by it all.

There was finding your way around the chateau, figuring out which was the best route to take to each of the classes, the dinning chamber, and the Quidditch pitch for flying lessons (while also learning that certain of the grounds many maze-gardens were implicitly reserved by upper years; especially the ones with higher hedges, so they could do ‘ _couple-ly – kissy stuff_ ’ as Henri, Louis’ second older brother, called it). Naturally, all of this had to be done while not getting on the bad side of either the matron, Madame [Austèrie](https://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/aust%C3%A8re#French), or the caretaker, Monsieur [Ramon](https://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/ramon#French).

Then there were the classes themselves; the lessons, and the homework and reading that ensued. There was also remembering to bring your darker-blue protective robes for Potions and Herbology (as well as bring the appropriate gloves necessary for the lesson), and to change in completely different robes for flying.

There was also making sure to correctly greet everyone. The school welcoming students from several countries, there was not only making sure to wish good-morning in the right language (though, by now, most usually just did in French) but also the preferred manner of salutation. There were those who favoured a hand shake, while other could become somewhat offended if you didn’t give them the [_bise_](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cheek_kissing#Western_Europe) (sometimes with three or four kisses!) and then there was the odd boy who gave [hand-kisses](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hand-kissing) to witches (though for this last one, Aurore, a fifth year, had warned the first year girls that these wizards were more often than not just ‘rascals’ that had no boundaries, who actually pressed their lips against the hand for far longer than the approved few seconds, rather than well-mannered gentle-wizard who still observed the old-ways).

Furthermore, certain teachers had a preferred form of address. The Latin professor insisted being addressed as ‘[ _M_ _agister_](https://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/magister#Latin) [Julius](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Julius_Caesar)’. According to Fifi, the English teacher was to be addressed in English (which made sense) as ‘Professor’ or ‘sir’. While Hermes had yet to find out what the other language teachers preferred, the rest teachers thankfully seemed content with ‘Monsieur’, ‘Madame’ or ‘Professeur’ (though the Astronomy teacher, [Solà](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Josep_Comas_i_Sol%C3%A0), might have a slight preference for ‘Señor’- understandable given he was from Catalan). Even the Headmistress was usually referred to as Madame [Maxime](http://harrypotter.wikia.com/wiki/Olympe_Maxime).

There was also to remember to stand when the teacher entered the classroom, as well as when the Headmistress entered any room, and when all the professors and Madame Maxime arrived for the evening meal. (For breakfast and lunch, it was slightly more lax as everyone came in and ate at different times.)

And then there were all the unspoken rules. Not eat too much before flying lessons or Potions. Tying your hair for Potions, Herbology, flying, and any sort of practical spell-word was advisable (though that last one hadn’t happened too much yet, two months into first year). Asking an older student to renew the [Feather-light charm](http://harrypotter.wikia.com/wiki/Feather-light_charm) and a strengthening-anti-tearing charm ever couple of days on your school bag (lest you wanted to suddenly find yourself with a very heavy bag halfway through the day, or worse, your bag breaking open with your possessions falling all over the place). During dinner: **never** fall asleep during the wood nymphs’ serenades; they apparently got highly offended and the ‘felonious student’ would be glared at by a good part of the school, those grief-stricken by the knowledge that the nymphs would refuse to sing the next evening. Ensuring that you made your bed, kept your area clean and your uniform was in pristine order... ( _The list goes on_ ).

 

In addition to all this, Hermes was also still getting used to just having _so many_ people around.

So many people in a classroom, when it had been just her and the tutor before.

So many people in the dining hall, when it was usually Uncle Hydrus and her, or Grand-mère and her (only recently with a few added guests).

So many people, even where she slept. At ‘ _Le_ _Mas-Noir_ ’^*, Hermes slept in her own room, with Cissan her only possible bed mate and Nixie only other true visitor. (Uncle Hydrus rarely came to all the way to her room, but rather had his elf send for her.) On the other hand, the Beauxbatons first year girls’ dormitory had been taken over by not quite 30 young witches. (Thankfully though, each girl had her own four poster bed and a designated semi-enclosed personal space for their belongings.) ^**

Before Beauxbatons, Hermes could probably count the number of people she had met on both hands, and they were mostly family or friends of the family above a certain age.

There was Uncle Hydrus, who was her godfather and, in theory, her guardian. Yet, he did tend to sometimes forget that he had a charge, so engrossed in his own interests. Or as Grand-mère liked to put it (every chance she got): he could be reckless, immature, and even downright irresponsible; in other words, someone who had clearly not expected to become guardian to a child-witch at any point in his life.

Then there was Grand-mère, who didn’t have much good to say about her son-in-law or his brother or the rest of the Black family... or any ‘ _[Rosbif](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Glossary_of_names_for_the_British#Rosbif)_ ’ and that ‘ _cold, wet rock_ ’ where they all came from for that matter. Their interactions were occasionally enlarged with the addition of ‘ _Oncle_[ _Archie_](http://harrypotter.wikia.com/wiki/Archibald_Bienbon)’ (actually Hermes great-uncle), who, Hermes suspected, might be slightly terrified of his sister-in-law, and much preferred locking himself with his books or having a philosophical debate about the newest wizarding terms.

There had been also her Grandparents (paternal grandparents that is) until she was four, but Hermes only had vague memories of them.

Then there was ‘Uncle Arcturus’. A rather scary-looking wizard, he had come to Le Mas-Noir only once, soon after Hermes fifth birthday. Hermes only clear memory of the event was the aforementioned wizard spending a good five minutes stare-glaring at her, his hard-cold-grey eyes (nothing like Regulus’) _scrutinising_ her, before having asked a string of really odd questions to Hydrus, all while Hermes had continued to stand there mutely (as Hydrus had warned-instructed her beforehand).

Hermes couldn’t really count Father or Mother though. She didn’t remember them; she had barely been one when they had died. Naturally there were photos of them and their portraits, but it wasn’t the same thing. Besides Grand-mère didn’t like her spending too much time with portraits; it wasn’t healthy. Hermes also knew that Grand-mère didn’t like that the primary notion Hermes had of her own mother, Grand-mère’s only child, was a _[portrait](http://harrypotter.wikia.com/wiki/Portrait) _ – a portrait which had been painted not long after the wedding and thus was not a particularly in-depth representation of who [_Isabelle_](https://www.behindthename.com/name/isabelle) _‘_[ _Lys_](https://www.behindthename.com/name/Lys) _’ Bienbon_ had been. She much preferred being the one to tell Hermes stories of her mother (usually of before she had met Hermes’ father).

As for the others, she had only met them recently, after the funeral.

 

Reflexively Hermes fingers glided over the ornament hanging from her neck once more.

It was only after a few seconds that her hand lowered, only for Hermes to notice her scar prickling once more.

Confusion merged in with the numbness-sorrow that currently enveloped Hermes. She had had another one of _those_ dreams last night, she was sure of it. While she didn’t actually remember it (she rarely did), she had felt nauseous when waking up. Of course there was also the dull throb of a small headache that continued to linger even after breakfast which was another clue to the previous evening’s event.

Hermes quickly shook herself of her musings (and the numbing ache pressing against her ribcage). She checked the imaginary wrinkles on her uniform on last time before scurrying after Louis and Fifi.

Only once reaching the colonnade that lead to the greenhouses did Hermes finally catch up with the two other first years; the two first years who were whispering frantically at each other... _having in an argument_? Hermes frowned. Clearly she had been in her own head a while and had clearly missed _something_.

{“Everything alright?”}

Both heads snapped towards her, before Louis’ ears turned red, and Fifi huffed.

{“Everything is _fine_. Louis is just having a hissy-fit.”}

Louis puffed up, glaring at the taller witch, {“Well, _I_ was under the impression that we were going to _wait_ until tonight to give Hermèse her birthday presents, but _someone_ clearly can’t follow _basic_ directions.”}

{“ _Oh_.”} Hermes’ flushed once more. They were arguing, going through all this hassle, for her and her birthday. Hermes had to swallow sharply at the sudden dryness of her throat. She didn't know why this was affecting her so much—

_No_ , that was a lie; she knew exactly why this was affecting her so much.

She celebrated her birthday of course, just as she’d had presents before, from her grandparents and uncle, not only for her birthday but also for Yule and the occasional one at [Ēostre](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/%C4%92ostre). There had also been all the gifts from Reg through the years, in addition to his letters.

But this...

This was the other thing Hermes was still getting used to.

_Friends_.

 

She only ever had three friends before.

 

Her first ever friend was Nixie, the House-elf she had inherited her parents. Her constant companion, the one who looked out for her, played with her during the day, read to her in the evening, the one usually waking her up and reassuring her when Hermes had a nightmare... It had actually taken Hermes a (frustratingly) long amount of time to convince Nixie that they were _friends_ (rather than Hermes being her ‘mistress’ and Nixie being her ‘elf’).

 

Her second friend was a snake. Hermes had come across him one day while wondering through the estate. She might have been scared if not for the fact that she was three and had yet to meet a snake... Not to mention, unlike all the other animals she had come across so far, she had _understood_ him. So instead of being possibly crying out in fright, she had giggled at his private rant, before asking him why he was grumbling about a rock?

She hadn’t minded when he had snapped at her. She had just been really happy that the snake had talked back to her, telling her that the rock was ‘unsuitable’: apparently it was not flat, had too many pointy edges and was definitely not _warm_ enough (the worst of its crimes).

He had explained a great many things after that.

It was possibly the fact Hermes had brought him a much better rock (though it had been through trial-and-error, bringing two more ‘unsuitable rocks’ before one that was deemed adequate). Or that the snake was as surprised as Hermes that they could understand each other. Or that Hermes liked the inherent nature of snakes of stating the obvious; just stating how things were. Or the couple of rodents Hermes had asked Nixie to get from Hydrus’ Potions lab for the snake. Or the way she had stroked the top of his scales in a way that he definitely liked. Or that his presence and hissing soothed her somehow.

Or, when finding out he didn’t have a name, Hermes had helped him choose one (a concept that had definitely intrigued him). In this search, for some reason the name ‘ _Chessington_ ’^*** had come to mind. It apparently originated from the Anglo-Saxon word ‘ _Cissan dūn_ ’, which meant “ _hill belonging to [a man named] Cissa_ ”. Relating all of this to the snake, he had been more than pleased by the ‘king of the hill’ part of Hermes’ explanation, with a hill being an unquestionably ‘ _very important_ ’ piece of land, something she had been quick to assure him. Ultimately, they decided on the name ‘Cissan’ (Hermes had especially liked the succession of ‘s’ sounds it made, similar to the snake’s hisses).

Or perhaps it was a mix of all of things reasons and possibly more. It still didn’t change that barely a week after their first meeting, they had become friends. (Hermes was also certain that Cissan was pleased by the concept of having a ‘friend’, especially one that could bring him food and warm rocks.) Even when both Hydrus and Grand-mère had made a whole fuss when they had found out, Hermes relented in keeping Cissan. (It had helped that he was apparently not a venomous snake, and the fact that he was too small to possibly consider Hermes a meal, preferring small rodents, amphibians, and birds instead.)

 

And then there was Regulus— _had been_ Regulus.

Her throat tight, her heart aching, Hermes howled internally. _Oh Reg, why did you have to be such a stupid_ _Little Lion_?

 

{“ _Hermes_ , are you alright?”}

Her head jerked up to meet Louis’ concerned blue eyes. Clearly her thoughts had not been as veiled as Hermes had hoped. (Regulus would have been horrified by her momentary lapse.)

She quickly stuttered, {“Y-yes; I’m fine.”}, accompanied a rather forced smile.

From his stare, Louis wasn’t fully convinced by her answer. Nor was Fifi for that matter. Thankfully, Louis seemed to decide, at least for now, to let it go, {“We should head down then, before we end up being late.”}

Grateful for the reprieve, Hermes let out a sigh before straightening her posture once more. With a nod (mainly to herself) she followed after Louis, all while wondering if she would ever fully get used to it; getting used to having people care about her, listen to her thoughts and ideas, wonder what she liked to do, be concerned about her feelings and possible troubles...

Of course Grand-mère and Hydrus also cared for her. (She had received a few letters from them over the past two months. Grand-mère wrote the most, followed by Hydrus and even Oncle Archie.) It was embedded in them. For one, she was her only granddaughter, from the daughter that had been taken away far too soon. For the other, she was his goddaughter, his brother and closest-companion’s daughter. But Hermes was their charge, with them the adult, and her the child. The dynamic of their relationship would always be askew by the fact that, whether they realised it or not, it was ingrained in them to make sure Hermes knew who was in charge. (Even with Nixie, Cissan and Regulus there was a resonance of this in their own distinctive way.)

Hermes own particularity didn’t help with this either. She knew that their actions, interaction, decisions regarding her were only magnified by the strangeness that surrounded her.

There was no denying it. While Grand-mère insisted on describing Hermes as ‘ _extraordinaire’_ , Hermes just saw herself as different, _odd_. Even for a witch. Even for a witch of the ‘ _Noble and Most Ancient House of Black_ ’, or of the ‘ _Auguste Famille Bienbon_ ’.

There was of course the ‘family secrets’, like the numerous dangerous objects that Hermes was not to touch, or their ability to talk to snakes, both which Uncle Hydrus had mandated her not to tell anyone about.

However, there was also the ‘Hermes secrets’; those that made Hydrus and Grand-mère all the more reluctant for Hermes to go anywhere and meet anyone.

There was the strange scar, shaped in a lightning bolt, on her chest, just above her heart. It prickled sporadically, for no apparent reason.

There were the strange winged, reptilian-faced horses that resided in the forest at the edge of [Taigh](https://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/taigh) [Nathraichean](https://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/nathair), Grandfather and Grandmother’s estate in Scotland. Hermes had learned later on that she shouldn’t be able to see them (not _yet_ anyway, whatever that had meant).

And then there were the bizarre (sometimes scary) dreams and odd feelings she would get upon hearing a certain word or name or seeing something, all of which she had had for as long as she could remember.

Usually it was just an emotion that suddenly hit her; like the strange sharp moment of rage that had run through her when Regulus had said the word ‘ _mudblood_ ’. It was more surprising though when it happened when hearing the name of a place or person. ‘ _Hogwarts_ ’ brought warmth and a feeling of ‘home’, and while she hadn’t recognised ‘ _Arcturus_ ’, she had gotten a brief shudder when Hydrus had then talked about ‘ _Walburga_ ’. The worse had been for ‘ _Sirius_ ’ and ‘ _Regulus_ ’. Hermes had become unbelievably sad upon first hearing their names. Recently she had wondered if the feeling had been a warning of sorts; that somehow a part of her had known that these people would bring her sorrow. -Even for Sirius, strange at it seemed, the few days after that initial mention, she had felt a strong stab of pain run through her when she had learnt of her cousin-nephew’s rejection, even if it didn’t really make much sense, since she had never met actually him.

Sometimes the feeling-tremor was more distinct, like a non-memory of sorts, an echo. Her mind often murmured ‘ _when in doubt, go to the library_ ’ when she was confused about something. The feeling amplified further in certain situations, where she just seemed to _know_ what to do without really thinking about it. When she was younger, her said her first words very young according to Grand-mère, and later, learning to read and write had been rather easy for Hermes. In the same way, her magic seemed to come more naturally to her than it did for others her age. Even at Beauxbatons, Hermes occasionally felt as if she had already had done a particular lesson. Then there was also when she seemed to understand the small struggles of the muggleborn students, even though she had never personally interacted with any of them before or visited the strictly muggle parts of either France or Britain. (It wasn’t like Hydrus or Regulus or even Grand-mère talked all that much about muggles and muggleborns, other than possibly complain about them.)

Then there was the dreams themselves. While she usually didn’t actually remember them, Hermes would always wake up her mind muddled, buzzing and numb at the same time (if that was at all possible). As for her scar, it would be prickling, nothing painful but enough to irritate her skin. For the brief images of them she _did_ remember, they only left Hermes more confused and sometimes even scared: red eyes, half giants, men in black cloaks, dragons, the winged horses, graveyards, werewolves...

Of course it didn’t help that no one in her immediate family was able to explain these visions and inklings. There had been no known Seers (someone that could apparently see into the future according to Grand-mère) on either side of the family. Nor were they certain that what Hermes experienced was ‘ _seeing_ ’ as such. Grand-mère and Hydrus actually agreed (surprising as that was) in their belief that it had something to do with her other ‘Hermes secrets’, as well as possibly to do with having lost her parents so young, or having been born on Samhain... but no real explanation had come for it all.

Only that they continued to happen at with no coherent explanation as to when and why they occurred.

Or that they had increased since starting at Beauxbatons.

A slight shiver ran through Hermes, an echo of last night, before she just as quickly suppressed it.

 

She had Herbology to get to and some spiky bushes to meet.

 

*****

 

The Dining Chamber was filled with smells of baked pumpkins, roasted nuts, and (floating) candles burning. The hall was full of decorations: thousands of crows, owls and bats were fluttering around, flowers (primarily [chrysanthemums](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chrysanthemum#Cultural_significance_and_symbolism) and [lycoris radiatas](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lycoris_radiata#Uses_and_legends)) had been tastefully placed around the room as well as upon the diamond statues heads -‘crowns’ of _Allhallowtide_ , and the wood nymphs, looking more stunning than ever, were already signing a serenata particular to the holiday. As for the food, it even better than usual, the chateau’s House-elves having outdone themselves.

Mercifully, with the mainly theoretical Herbology lesson on [Spiky Prickly Plants](http://harrypotter.wikia.com/wiki/Spiky_Prickly_Plant) (not Spiky Bushes like Louis had thought) handled only by Madame [Monocot](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Monocotyledon) (at the disappointment of Louis, while relief of Hermes since they apparently tended to shoot spikes when feeling threatened), followed by Magical Defence, and an hour of language class (Latin for Hermes and Louis, English for Fifi) as well as the excitement of the evening feast, thoughts of Hermes’ earlier behaviour had vanished from Louis and Fifi’s minds.

Even their previous argument had been forgotten, especially once Louis had the chance to present Hermes with his gift: a bilingual copy of _[Quidditch Through the Ages](http://harrypotter.wikia.com/wiki/Quidditch_Through_the_Ages)_ , with all the terms in English (the original language) and French, translated courtesy of Louis’ great-grandfather, Monsieur [Toubeau](http://harrypotter.wikia.com/wiki/Boniface_Toubeau) (Oncle Archie’s closest friend and colleague).

 

Instead their attention was either on the feast itself, or the guests that had been invited for the evening’s entertainments. The promised vampire was indeed present, though Fifi was actually vaguely disappointed that it wasn’t the half-vampire that Louis had mentioned in the end, clearly having become more intrigued by them. Given that they were most likely a lot more uncommon than vampires (and the one sitting at the high table looked rather old and decaying) Hermes tended to agree.

There were also two old couples sitting at the high table, all which had apparently been Beauxbatons students, (many) years ago. The first was a wizard and a veela, who while apparently already in her nineties, Hermes found still overwhelming _beautiful_. The _coup de grace_ though was the other couple, Madame Maxime having succeeded in having the [Flamel](http://harrypotter.wikia.com/wiki/Nicolas_Flamel)s attend. The (six times over) centenarians were to the right of the Headmistress, Monsieur Flamel currently speaking with Monsieur [Pensées-Profondes](http://harrypotter.wikia.com/wiki/Bertrand_de_Pens%C3%A9es-Profondes), the [Wizarding](http://harrypotter.wikia.com/wiki/Wizardkind) philosophy lecturer for final years, while Madame Flamel was speaking with the aforementioned guest vampire. Hermes had overheard earlier some of the upper years speculating on whether the Alchemist-couple had retreated back to France in the last few years due to the increasing unrest in Wizarding Britain. Hermes had quickly shut herself out the rest of that particular conversation not wanting to hear anymore about a particular wizard or his followers behind said ‘ _unrest_ ’.

Instead Hermes listened to Fifi, Louis and some of the other first years speculating on what might be planned for tomorrow, as well as the anticipation of various students’ family members coming. From what Hermes gathered, quite a few families with students at Beaubatons tended to come, not wanting to miss out on the holiday celebrations. While they did not have access to the palace, they were welcome to the Allhallowtide festivities planned at Beau[hameau](https://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/hameau). Grand-mère would be visiting tomorrow (along with Oncle Achie and the Toubeau family), as a mix of celebrating Samhain and Hermes birthday.

 

Unfortunately the warmth and immensity of the feast did nothing to improve Hermes lingering mood. The headache was still there, even though Hermes had taken a quick nap dinner, as well as a lingering shudder. Even her scar was prickling softly.

She supposed it was expected.

Last year had been worse. Exactly one year after last seeing Regulus.

Hermes hadn’t even commemorated her birthday; refused all presents or celebration. She wouldn’t have even celebrated Samhain either if not for the fact that it was the celebration of the dead; however much she was still furious with Regulus (not only for being a stupid Little Lion but for also ruining Samhain and her birthday for her), however much it had pained her, Hermes couldn’t _not_ do the different offerings and rituals.

And just like a year ago, the pain continued to twist inside her every time her mind wondered to Reg.

Twisted like the pendant that continued to hang from her neck.

The pendant. Her hand hovered over it, barely touching it.

She should have known then. Known that it would be his last gift to her. When he had given it to her on her ninth birthday (after several other presents) Hermes had immediately recognised it. It had been a brooch before ever becoming a pendant; the brooch _she_ had ever given _him_ , for his fifteenth birthday. Hermes had first gotten cross, refusing it. She had then demanded to know why Reg was giving her back her present— _rejecting_ the first present she had ever given him.

He had gone on about it looking better on her... that no jewellery could compare to such a priceless object, one which she deserved more than him... To then talk about that he had added a several protection charms and spells on it... Followed by how much he loved her... that she was the best thing that ever happened to him... Completed with him having given her a lingering kiss on her forehead and hugging her tightly; something in the long run Hermes should have seen as another clue.

It had been his farewell.

It was obvious now. The Ancient and Noble House of Black, if nothing else, was not one for blatant displays of sentimentality. Both Uncle Hydrus and Reg himself had told her often enough: “ _showing ones emotions on ones sleeves only showcases your weaknesses, while exercising self-restrain displays_[ _fortitude_](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cardinal_virtues) _in the face of adversity_ ”.

Regulus was a Slytherin after all. He hadn’t just charged head first into something. No, he had _known_ that he was going into a dangerous situation; a situation that would most likely lead to his death... just like she had warned him of time and time again... just like she had had that eerie feeling when she had first heard his name.

There had been no word, no letters, after his departure.

And then one evening she just _knew_.

She had cried for two days straight. When the tears had refused to continue, most of the furniture in her room had ended up destroyed somehow, Hermes couldn’t really remember... And then there had been the funeral. Both Grand-mère and Hydrus had been against her going (one of the few times they agreed on something). Uncle Hydrus had ultimately conceded when she had started going for his possessions – mainly his collection of prized brooms (his signed [Moontrimmer](http://harrypotter.wikia.com/wiki/Moontrimmer) still had the small cracks on its handle). Uncle Hydrus and her had internationally portkeyed directly in the foyer of Reg— _Aunt Walburga_ ’s home to then floo to the cemetery. For all her outbursts to go to the event, Hermes didn’t actually remember much from the funeral, except for the numbness and blackness (true to her and Regulus’ namesake) enveloping her.

After Regulus’ funeral, Grand-mère had put her foot down though.

The Bienbon Matriarch had decided it would be best if Hermes leave ‘Le Mas-Noir’, or basically any place that would remind her of Regulus, for a while at least. So instead she had gone up to Grand-mère’s main residence in the outskirts of Paris. (Hermes had not missed the slight look of relief on Hydrus’ face at the news, even more out of his depth on how to handle his nine year old niece.) Once there, they had done a few outings together, Grand-mère even bringing her twice to the _Avenue Étoilé_ , Paris main wizarding shopping area, hidden in the heart of the capital. Hermes had also met most of the other (old) witches in Grand-mère’s coven. Oncle Archie had invited her to meet his closest friend (and colleague) Monsieur [Toubeau](http://harrypotter.wikia.com/wiki/Boniface_Toubeau), his wife, three sons, and seven grandsons: Louis, his two brothers, Charles (a fifth year) and Henri (a second year), and their cousins: Hugh, Jean, Francois, and Philippe (Francois and Philippe, still at Beauxbatons, in sixth and third year respectively).*^^

The other decision Grand-mère had put her foot down on was that Hermes would be going to ‘ _l’Académie de Magie Beauxbâtons_ ’.

When Grand-mère had first told her, Hermes had been numb, unsure how to feel about it. She knew her mother had gone there, as had the Bienbon family for several generations. She had heard the occasional anecdote, or news about the Headmistress or a particularly gifted witch or wizard to come from the magical school.

There was also the fact that she would not have had to wait an extra year to go to Beauxbatons. Unlike Hogwarts, it allowed her to start at ten years old, seeing as her birthday was before the end of the year ^^.

Unlike Hogwarts who had had Regulus. Regulus who had been so excited to for her to go and experience the magical castle for herself.

In the end she had convinced herself that that was a good thing. It was something new, a blank canvas yet to be painted on. (Something of her own that she would have been able to share with Regulus if he hadn’t decided to do something stupid.) Hogwarts would have brought too many memories of Regulus: there would have been too many of his ghosts haunting her through the school he had attended and spent so many letters writing about.

Of course it hadn’t stopped Hermes from continually comparing Beauxbatons to what she knew of Hogwarts. Even before arriving at the school the comparisons had started. Hermes had thought of the black slightly rough robes and thick dark cloaks Reg had complained about when she had been fitted for pale blue silk robes and dark blue cloaks. A silver-and-emerald tie had come to mind when the seamstress had draped the large [sash](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sash) over Hermes, going from her right shoulder to her left hip. Even the cloth’s colour wasn’t the right green. The Beauxbatons First years’ sash was a dark _pine_ green. One which changed to violet when you became a second year, followed by indigo for third year, blue for fourth year, red for fifth, white for sixth and the gold-and-teal of the Beauxbatons crest for the final year students.

Then, once at the breath-taking beautiful of chateau (rather than a medieval castle), there had been a string of other differences for Hermes to tally on between the two schools. Beauxbatons didn’t have Houses. There was no Sorting, no House Cup, House points (no Slytherin-Gryffindor rivalry). There weren’t even prefects or Head Boy and Girl. While Hogwarts had Houses, towers or dungeons for their students to sleep in, the East Wing was reserved for all the sleeping quarters at Beauxbatons. ‘ _La_ _Tour Jointe_ ’, the communal tower complete with its large shared spaces and [double-helix](https://www.google.co.uk/search?q=Escalier+double+helice+Chambord&source=lnms&tbm=isch&sa=X&ved=0ahUKEwjvq9y_mbXZAhUsLsAKHb0LCo0Q_AUICygC&biw=953&bih=811) [staircase](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m0wD388aD1E), pierced right down of it, separating the long dormitory corridor into two: one side for the girls the other for the boys. As for the years, and their adjoining large communal space in the tower, they were divided by floor. First years were situated on the seventh floor, an enchanted ceiling over their heads (which never failed to make Hermes wonder how it compared to the Great Hall at Hogwarts that Regulus had described in several of his letters). There was alos that the History teacher was _alive_ , rather than a (‘ _exceedingly, mind-numbing_ ’) ghost. In fact ghosts were a lot rarer at Beauxbatons compared to what Regulus had told her of Hogwarts. Beauxbatons had wood nymphs and fairies instead. (And there was definitely no poltergeist.)

(... There weren’t any Dark wizards twisting the minds of young witches or wizards either.)

 

Her scar prickled more strongly than before, while it all seemed to wash over her.

The heavily perfumed odours and the clattering were getting to her. The flutter from the different lying creatures played over her head. She could hear Fifi happily eating next to her all while doing a bow-by-blow commentary of both the food and the festivities...

{“...and _these_ pumpkin tarts ar—”}

Whatever Fifi thought of the pumpkin starts she never found out. All Hermes felt, all she knew was her scar suddenly bursting open. It was pain beyond imagining, pain past endurance —

She was gone from the hall, she was locked in the coils of a creature with red eyes, so tightly bound that Hermes did not know where she ended and the creature’s began. They were fused together, bound by pain, and there was no escape —

 

And then there was darkness and silence.

 

*****

 

_She quickly recognised it, like the many she had before; the eerie feeling that surrounded her whenever she had one of her nightmares that she had no control over_ _._

 

_It was night. The street she was on was dark and peaceful, no one in sight. As for her, she was wearing a dark cloak with the hood on, covering her from head to toe. She was walking down the street—_ No _, more gliding than walking. There was no sound of steps, no noise against the pavement_ _._

_She only stopped when drawing level with a dark hedge, to stare over it..._

_The other side presented an enchanting scene: a pleasant looking cottage, a welcoming_ _glow emanating from it, especially with all the lights coming from inside. The family hadn’t even drawn the curtains. Hermes could quite clearly see the sitting room. A tall black-haired man with glasses was making puffs of coloured smoke erupt from the wand for the amusement of a small just as black-haired little girl in green pyjamas. With each puff the child gave a squeal of delight, before giggling further as she tried to catch the smoke with her small fist..._

_Hermes wanted to smile, even laugh at the heart-warming scene. And yet she found herself_ unable _._

_Instead she only continued to watch as a door opened and a woman with long dark-red hair entered. The child’s mother, Hermes was certain. She said something, unheard what with Hermes still outside on the other side of the hedge, and the next moment, the little girl was scooped up by her father and handed to her mother. Mother and daughter disappearing from view, the dark-haired man threw his wand down upon the sofa and stretched, yawning..._

_The gate creaked a little as_ _she pushed it open. That was when Hermes noticed her hand. It wasn’t_ her _hand – it was_ bigger _, white_ ; _ghostlike, with long scary-spidery fingers_.

_Before she could think of her strange hand further the vision had her pulling out a wand, from beneath her cloak —not_ her _wand though, one Hermes didn’t recognise. The hand pointed the wand at the door, for it to burst open_.

_She was over the threshold when the wizard came sprinting into the hall, and yelled, " _Lily, take Harriet and go! It’s_ him _! Go!_ Run _! I’ll hold him off!”__

_A bone-chilling laugh came out of her mouth before Hermes said,_ “Avada Kedavra!”

_Green light filled the cramped hallway, it lit the pram pushed against the wall, it made the banisters glare like lightning rods, and_ _the wizard fell..._

_Before Hermes could truly process what had happened, her heart beating faster than ever, her attention was drawn to screams coming from the upper floor; the mother._

_She shook her head. She didn’t want to continue. She didn’t like this dream. She_ had _to wake up. Why wasn’t she waking up?_

_And yet it continued_ – _she climbed the steps, able to hear the woman trying to barricade herself in one of the rooms._

_Whatever the red-haired woman had placed was unfortunately no match. The door was easily forced open, and with a simple flick of the wand Hermes cast aside the chair and boxes that had been piled against the door._

_Inside the woman stood with the child in her arms. At the sight of Hermes, the little girl was dropped into the crib behind the mother and she threw her arms wide, trying to shield the baby from sight._

_“Not Harriet, not Harriet, please not Harriet!”_

_Hermes wanted to tell the woman she wouldn’t hurt the child. She wanted to reassure the mother. She wanted to wake up. But instead her voice deep and dangerous she found herself ordering the woman, “Stand aside, you silly girl... stand aside, now.”_

_“Not Harriet, please no, take me, kill me instead —”_

_“This is my last warning —”_

_" Not Harriet! Please ... have mercy ... have mercy... Not Harriet! Not Harriet! Please — I’ll do anything —”_

_“Stand aside. Stand aside, girl!”_

_To Hermes horror, the next moment, when the mother still did not move, a second green light flashed from the wand she was still holding. The light filled around the room and the woman dropped like her husband._

_Her gaze moved to the child._

_The little girl was standing, clutching the bars of her crib, looking up at Hermes with a kind of bright interest, but she made no sound._

_The wand was very carefully pointed at the little girl’s heart._

_That’s when the child began to cry. Hermes realised that the girl had finally seen her face under the hood. She had seen it and didn’t like it. As for Hermes herself, an inexplicable rage ran through her at the sound of crying_ —

“Avada Kedavra!”

_And then Hermes broke: pain and terror filled her, she could hear the child now screaming, but far away... far away..._

_And then everything went black. Darkness and silence finally enveloped her once more._

_The nightmare was finally over._

 

**\- } * * * { -**

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **- ‘Fifi’ is a small wink to ‘Fifi Brindacier’: Pippi Longstocking in French (a friendly and kind girl, but who has no "proper" manners and having no training or experience in how to behave in normal society) of the books of the same name
> 
> *** - In France, the Nov 1st, ‘ _La Toussaint_ ’ is a bank holiday; children don’t have school.
> 
> *^ - The Josephine Marat and Alain Lacroix links are hints that they will be on the [French National Quidditch team](http://harrypotter.wikia.com/wiki/French_National_Quidditch_team) later on.
> 
> ^ - on HPwiki Lorcan d’Eath is born in 1964, in this story he is older, as he would most likely still be in school if he attended H, B, or D.
> 
> ^* - ‘Le Mas-Noir’: Hydrus’ main property. Name in link to ‘manoir’=‘manor’, as well as ‘mas’ another term for a ‘bastide’, which is (in southern France) a country house; farmhouse-estate. Not to mention, ‘noir’=‘black’, obvious reference to their last name.
> 
> ^** - Book-Canon, HP's year had 34 students (boys:19 / girls:15) since W-Britain was at war while they were conceived/born + Hogwarts taking students from W-Britain (with the odd person from a Commonwealth country) while Beauxbatons takes from France, Belgium, Luxemburg, Spain and Portugal, there would be a higher number of students per year: HB's year: 29 girls / 27 boys.
> 
> ^*** - For Cissan’s name: According to HPWiki – the zoo in the HP&PS is _Chessington's World of Adventure_ , in real-world Surrey. From on this + that one partial memory that ‘slips through’ is remembering the name of the zoo (Chessington) where she had first met a snake.
> 
> *^^ - Louis, Charles, Henri, Hugh, Jean, Francois, and Philippe: all names of French kings.
> 
> ^^ - In France, the limit to take children in a certain year is the end of the calendar year, not the start of term.
> 
> ^^* - The Beauxbatons anecdotes:
> 
> There have been a few websites/stories online that mention Beauxbatons having Houses/a sorting, yet Pottermore and WikiHP makes no mention of it. I personally am not inclined to it, having never heard of any school in France with the concept of House, prefects and Head Boy and girl; it is for me a British thing.
> 
> The sleeping set up, uniforms, as well as Beauxbatons itself (in addition to the few descriptions of Beauxbatons given to us in the books, mainly from Fleur), were inspired by the first french ‘pensionats’– focusing especially on:
> 
> \- The Maison Royale de Saint-Louis ([English Maison royale de Saint-Louis](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Maison_royale_de_Saint-Louis) / [French Maison Royale de Saint-Louis](https://fr.wikipedia.org/wiki/Maison_royale_de_Saint-Louis) )
> 
> \- The Maison d'éducation de la Légion d'honneur (en: [English Maison d’Education de la Legion d’honneur](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Maison_d%27%C3%A9ducation_de_la_L%C3%A9gion_d%27honneur) / fr: [French Maison d’Education de la Legion d’honneur](https://fr.wikipedia.org/wiki/Maison_d%27%C3%A9ducation_de_la_L%C3%A9gion_d%27honneur#Les_Loges))
> 
> For the language courses: as hinted in the chapter, seeing as Beauxbatons takes students from France, Belgium, Luxembourg, Netherlands, Portugal, and Spain, and French public schools tend to push for learning a secondary, even a tertiary language; not to mention that Fleur (and supposedly the other Beauxbatons students during the TriWizarding Tournament) did have a fairly decent level in English, I am going on first years having a required language course (as well third years pushed for a second one). Hermes and Louis, fluent in English, went for Latin (which would help with the ‘Romantic languages’ + their incantation understanding), while Fifi did English.


	5. Chapter 2 - Death's Master

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hermes wakes up and finds herself not alone.
> 
> Mostly an exposition chapter.

 

****

** Chapter 2 – Death's Master **

**\- } * * * { -**

 

"I took the road less travelled by, and that made all the difference." – Robert Frost

 

**\- } * * * { -**

 

_Red eyes appeared through the darkness, staring straight at her._

_“_ Harriet Potter,” _a voice whispered. The voice might have been part of the spitting fire. “The Girl Who Lived.”_

_Then there was a long wait._

_Everything seemed to_ waiting _for_ something.

_The red eyes, still staring, tilted to one side, as if she was an oddity they didn’t understand. They continued to stare—_

_There was a flash of green light, and everything went dark once more._

 

The attack was as unexpected as it was brutal.

Images assaulted her mind. _A flash of green light. The inside of a cupboard. A row of identical looking houses. A tall, thin blonde-haired woman with the longest neck and pursed lips. A young boy resembling a beach ball. A large beefy man, who looked more walrus than human. A woman, just as large and purple-faced as the man (even the shadow of a moustache was present) with several bulldogs surrounding her.  A snake slithering on the hard floor and out a set of double doors. Letters – hundreds of letters – flying through the air_.

She couldn't hold onto anything; it felt as if any sort of control had never existed. The onslaught consumed her. Her thoughts tumbled through with not even a modicum of sense or order to it all. It was being amidst a tempest, water moving all around her, crashing against her, blinding her, making any movement near impossible, soaking through her clothes, seeping into every crevice until all was consumed by it with no possibility of stopping any of it.

Her mind burst open like a cracked egg, and her panic only escalated. Memories flowed past. _A half-burnt body screaming. A young woman in red-and-gold robes falling to the ground in slow-motion, dead. A jet of light hitting a long dark-haired rugged man squarely in the chest—_

Adrenaline surged through her, _finally_.

Her eyes snapped open.

Her head was buzzing. She could feel her heart pounding in her ears. Her chest felt as if a stampede of[ graphorns](http://harrypotter.wikia.com/wiki/Graphorn) had just passed over her.

The incensed voice from before echoed through her whole body, “ _Harriet Potter_.”

Following straight after was another assault of blurred images; of people and places, of cries, yells, of smells... Memories came rushing in, all at the same time— _too_ many memories. _Her dad yelling for her mom to run. Her mom pleading to Voldemort. A not-fully solid Tom Riddle standing by an unmoving, paler than normal Draco Malfoy. Professor Warren turning to ash as both she and Voldemort screamed. Angelina lying dead, eyes empty, in the graveyard. Sirius falling through the veil._ _Mr Weasley. Dumbledore. Hiero. Moody. Pettigrew. Snape. Lupin. Hanna_ —

“ _Ah_. Finally awake I see.”

Her head snapped to the side to the rasped words, as if they had been bellowed rather than uttered just above a whisper.

As for the voice, it only added, “ _Master_ ”, belatedly, as if the need for the address had been momentarily forgotten.

There, hovering by her side was a... _mist_?

When her eyes first landed on it, a sharp pang of fear and confusion ran through her. But then, just as suddenly as it had come, the fright subsided, as if she knew she wasn’t in any danger.

The... _thing_ was best described as a large dark cloud, constantly in motion, slowly swirling on itself. Certain parts became darker and denser, while others more transparent, puffs of smoke seeping out. All the while she would get glimpses of tiny embers, the only distinctive elements glowing through the darkness; they were a multitude of[ deep reds, purples, greens, browns, yellows](http://changingminds.org/disciplines/communication/color_effect.htm),[ whites](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Symbols_of_death#Colors)...

Her throat dry and tight, she tried to gulp before whispering hoarsely, “Wh-who... what are you?” unable to stop the rather rude phrasing.

“I am Death.” The answer coming out in the same wispy gravel as before.

The jolt of alarm returned with the statement.

“A-am I d-dead? D-dying?”

While... ‘ _Death_ ’ answered, “ No, you’re not dead. Nor are you dying any time soon,” the tone of the response held no semblance of wanting to reassure her or not of her possible impending demise. The added “ _unless Fate meddled once more_ ” in undertone did nothing to reassure her either.

She didn’t know what to say or ask then. This did not feel remotely similar to what she remembered of her conversation with Dumbledore after Voldemort had sent the Killing curse at her ( _again_ ).

At a loss, she went with the obvious, “M-may I ask why you are here? That is to say, if I’m not dead or dying...”

“ And here I thought you would be happy to see me,” the reply in a mock petulant tone (which sounded all the creepier when added to the jarring voice).

“S-should I be?” No offence to Death but she couldn’t really think of many who would be _happy_ for Death to come visit them.

He ( _she_?) sighed, “ I am here because you called me.”

She blinked, “ _I_ called you? I–I’m sorry... _sir_ (?) but I’m almost certain I didn’t. Call you, that is. Maybe you’ve confused me with someone else?”

_Can Death confuse two people? Isn’t that rather dangerous? – What if he inadvertently has the wrong person die?_

Ignorant to her internal debate, Death affirmed, “ You did. Or more appropriately, a _part_ of you did: your magic if I’m not mistaken. Or I wouldn’t be here Miss Black. It would seem that even _I_ can’t ignore when my ‘Master’ screams through all of existence.”

The frown on her face returned, “ _Black_?” - _Yep_ , he(- _she_? _it_?) had clearly confused her with someone else. Seeing as Bellatrix was already dead, Narcissa perhaps? Or Andromeda?

If Death had eyes he ( _she_?) they would be staring at her, studying her right now, she was sure of it. Her very soul felt under scrutiny. ( _Well_ , perhaps it was, to be fair.)

There was a pause before “– _Ah!_ ” The embers burned brighter at the sudden exclamation of comprehension, “ you’ve regained your previous memories— _well_ , a part of them at least. I should have realised something like this would happen, especially given recent events.” With what might have been a shrug he-she-it added, “ Then again, I have never claimed to be an expert of things that aren’t yet dying or dead.”

She felt the frown on her face only grow more severe (as was her headache), as the strange replies and the scrutiny continued.

“Not to be rude but, what are you talking about?”

Surprisingly, Death laughed at the question. (Unsurprisingly) the laugher did nothing to ease or improve her mood (nor did it alleviate the ever growing strain of having Death _literally_ by her side).

“ Miss Bl- _Potter_ , given your question, am I to assume that you do not remember or are unaware that you gained the title of ‘Master of Death’?”

Eyes wide, gaping, she echo-blurted, “M- _Master of Death_?”

“ Yes. You possessed all three of my Hallows while willingly accepting your own death. The[ Cloak](http://harrypotter.wikia.com/wiki/Cloak_of_Invisibility) inherited from your ancestors. The[ Stone](http://harrypotter.wikia.com/wiki/Resurrection_Stone) left to you by another. The[ Wand](http://harrypotter.wikia.com/wiki/Elder_Wand) won from its previous owner. All three were not only yours but used when you went to your own death willingly: You wore the Cloak, wielded the Stone, and your would-be-murderer attempted to kill you by use of the Wand you had already mastered. Living through the attempt on your life (once more), you became ‘Master of Death’.”

Death’s words (and the swirling) were getting to her. She closed her eyes. She tried to recall the incident; like all her other her memories all those of _that_ day were hazy- _incomplete_. _The forest. Her parents. Remus and Sirius. The Death Eaters. Hagrid. Voldemort. The green light_.

Her throat had become dry once more.

“So, I... I’m the Master of Death.”

Death gave a sniff –clearly reluctant– nod (at least it looked like a nod), “ While I may loathe the title, _yes_ , you are my ‘ _Master_ ’. At least it’s better than the other ridiculous names mortals have come up with over the centuries. As if someone could ‘ _conquer_ ’ or ‘ _vanquish_ ’ Me.”

At the confirmation as well as remembering his earlier reassurance that she wasn’t dying or dead, she couldn’t help but blurt out, “Does that mean I’m immortal?” (-something perhaps she should have asked Dumbledore last time).

“ _Imm_ —?!” If Death had eyes, she was sure he ( _she_?) would be glaring at her with great incredulity, “ _Of course_ not!”

Death looked as if calming him( _her_?)self, before letting out an irritated huff, “ _Mortals_ : they never understand anything. Despite all the evidence pointing a single conclusion, they always try to see the opposite signpost. Yet they never ask me if a dropped ball will land on the ceiling (though, incidentally, in certain universes it does). why you should understand one but not the other, I don’t know.  Let me disabuse you of such an obvious falsehood: _you_ , having been created— _born_ a mortal, will still _die_ at some point. All mortals go from one world to the next. That is, if they don’t get stuck in Limbo, but I digress... Master of Death: you accepted the inevitability of, _well_ , ME, and you possess— _possessed_ all three of my Hallows, but that —”

“What do you mean ‘ _possess- **ed**_ ’?

Death glared at her once more for the interruption (or at least it felt like she was being glared at, though she wasn’t 100% certain given that she was staring-talking to something that was best described as a dark glowing cloud, not to mention everything else going on and the fact that her headache was still mind-numbingly painful). Clearly though, being Death’s ‘ _Master’_ had at least one benefit as he-she-it only gave another long sigh, before replying, devoid of any rebuke on her continued rudeness. “ Well, do you see them anywhere here?”

Focusing on the question (rather the obvious snipe and irritation in Death’s tone), she looked around her.

Unfortunately with the action, her panic returned. Not only could she not see any of the three Hallows (she had brief images of having returned the Elder Wand to Dumbledore’s tomb, as well as having dropped the stone in the forest, but the Invisibility Cloak, where was the Cloak?!) but it was while looking around her, searching, that she truly noticed her surroundings. She was in a bed in a long hall filled with beds all with just as clean and crisp white sheets as the ones she was in, privacy screens appearing intermittently; the hospital wing at Hogwarts?— _No_ , while it looked ( _eerily_ ) similar, she was certain it _wasn’t_ Hogwarts. Was she in St Mungo’s? From her (still blurry) memories, she recalled only having visited the First and Fourth floors, this place resembling none of the images she had of them. Then there was the other fact: it was more than evident that she was not in her body. It was definitely smaller, much younger, and while she _did_ find quite a few similarities (including her scar) between hers and this body, she was certain it wasn’t _her_ body, even a de-aged version of it.

Heart racing, she rasped, “W-where am I? W-what’s happened to me?”

The swirl that was Death shifted, as if looking around, “ For the _where_ , I’m not exactly certain; so many of these places look exactly the same to me. I tend to pay less attention to things when their demise is not imminent. But, given certain things, I would say: _Parallel Universe 6 552, Alternate Reality 2 583, Galaxy 4 479 552, System 63 882, Planet 3_ , in a country called ‘Gaul’— _no_ , ‘France’ by your species. And we are currently in an domain brimming with magic; one who acknowledges Me, given the magnitude of contributions and evidence of rites in the surrounding area.—I must say it is always nice to visit places where I’m still celebrated and left gifts; it does amplify my hold over my dominion as well as ease movement between my worlds and Life’s.”

There were so many parts of Death’s answer that... that... Well the whole of it was not at all what she had been looking for. Not to mention the several bits that were more or less worrying – _France_ for one was confusing... but the ‘ _Parallel Reality 65- something or another_ ’?

Yet, before she could ask Death about any of this, he-she-it beat her to it with the second part of her previous enquiry, “ As to what happened to you. Perhaps it would be best to... go over the matter of _who_ , currently, you are.”

“W-what?”

“ Yes, as previously – _very briefly_ \- delved upon, you are, strictly speaking, no longer Harriet[ Rosemary](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rosemary#Folklore_and_customs) Potter... but Hermes Perenelle Black.”

_Hermes Perenelle Black_.

It was as if another set of images, more recent ones— _clearer_ ones, had been waiting until this very moment to assault her mind, after finally receiving the permission to do so. Memories of a different life, a shorter life, flashed before her. _Both her parents and grandparents_ —Hermes’ _parents and grandparents_ ; whether these were her actual memories or recollections based on photographs or paintings she was unsure. _Hydrus. Grand-mère. Nixie. Oncle Archie. A mansion surrounded by fields, vineyards, and a lake. An elaborate cottage at the side of a forest. Drawings of owls, dogs, badgers, and winged horses some with bird-faces stuck on the wall of a large bedroom. Cissan. Regulus. Letters stacked with care on the side of a large dark-oak desk. Her ever-stern tutor, Monsieur_[ _Rigere_](https://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/rigor#Latin) _. Uncle Arcturus. A grim house, enveloped in a shroud of darkness. The funeral. Louis. Francois. Charles. Beauxbatons. Fifi. Madame Maxime. Samhain_ —

She looked around her once more, this time relatively certain she was in Beauxbatons... as _Hermes Black_ , an eleven year old Hermes Black and not an eighteen year old Harriet Potter–

“I... I don’t understand... how... how can I be _Hermes Black_ and _Harriet Potter_ , but not be... h-how can I have _two_ sets of memories?”

“ Well, the fact is you are no longer in the same world as before. And while your soul remains the same, you are no longer Harriet Potter – there was already a version of you, or really, a version of you had already been planned by Life and Fate when you were brought over. I couldn’t well give you his body now could I, where would Life have put his soul?”

“ _His_? And what do you mean no ‘longer in the same world’?” she couldn’t help but add, remembering of Death’s previous comment about parallel worlds (or was it universes?).

“ You can’t possibly think there is but one world out there? Fate would end up—”

“Wait, wait, wait, you keep mentioning Fate... and Life. They actually exist... like you?”

“ Well of course they exist. If nothing else it would be it would be tremendously boring without them. Never tell them this but for all my complaints about Life and Fate, things would be a lot more boring without them. And let’s not even delve into the mess that is Chaos.”

She wasn’t actually certain when she would have the opportunity to talk to Life or Fate (and if she did she would probably have a few choice words to Fate that would have nothing to do with her promise to Death) but nodded anyways.

“So there is Fate, Life, Chaos and you?”

Death let out (what sounded like) a impatient sigh, before saying more calmly, “ There are seven of us—seven ‘ _Primordial Entities_ ’ I guess would be the closest definition to whom, or _what_ we are. First there was[ Chaos](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chaos_\(cosmogony\)), and in response Force and Order both self-formed. Time, Life, Fate, and I followed, the first three anchoring us.”  

“ _Force_?”

“ Force is perhaps better described as compulsion or drive; it includes desires, emotions, impulses...”

She gave a tentative nod, before asking, “So... what exactly do you guys do?”

“ Apart from being the start and end all things; We exist and interact, balance each other. Chaos, Time and Life can create (usually with the assistance of Force and Order). Order, Fate, and Force can manipulate what has been created. Time, and I can remove things – each following our own strict set of rules of course. Life, Fate, and I find it the easiest an actually go and interact the different worlds.”

“And these different worlds?”

“ Ah, yes. You see, having existed since the beginning of all existence, we have done a fair bit since then; in comes an infinite number of parallel universes and a multitude of alternate realities within those universes that we create and maintain. There are parallel universes where the very laws of nature are different, some where magic is dissimilar or doesn’t exist—”

“No magic!”

“ No. Instead there are other things, such an alternative is a faster paced development in technology; quite a few of these actually have some sort of wealthy orphan, dressing up as a robot... or a bat— _though_ for those I think Fate had had an off day; _Riddler_ and _Joker_ , _really_?”

Hermes blinked. _Riddlers_... _bats_... _jokers_... Death’s words made her think of something else from Harriet’s life; something the Dursleys had actually refused for Dudley to watch on TV–“Do you mean _Batman_?”

Stopped in his rambling, Death blathered, “... _What?_... Oh, yes, I think that’s what the human-mortals of those particular worlds called him. Rather uninspired if you ask me. they only did a little bit better with ‘ _Dark Knight_ ’, but even then, in none of his realities is he ever knighted.”

“You mean there is actually a _real_ Batman somewhere out... out _there_?”

“ Well yes. Blame it on Fate. She does love certain of her ‘story-lines’ a little _too_ much – the orphan-hero being one of them. She loves them so much so in fact that she often ends up whispering a few choice words in the dreams of a struggling writer or producer and _Voila_! A distorted version of one universe is recounted for the entertainment of another. What’s worse is there’s always those little ‘elements’ that repeat themselves between universes, like a certain proclivity towards red-headed beings, and I’m not just talking about the ‘rich, technologically-adept orphans’ but _a lot_ of her orphan stories – even those where the orphan-hero has tractable claw-things coming out between his knuckles, another where he can see into wolves and rides dragons.-”

Hermes blinked, ‘ _Red-headed beings’_? Did he mean redheads? An image of George Weasley appeared in her mind then, but before she could think more on it or the accompanying jolt of pain, Death had moved on, “ -As for alternate realities of a particular universe, well taking yourself as an example; there are varying versions of you where you are a girl or a boy... where your appearance varies... some were you end up in a different House or Hogwarts no longer exists.”

“S-so when you said ‘ _his_ ’ earlier, you really meant it; there is a male version of me in this world, somewhere?

“ That is correct. Harry James Potter.”

“What about me then? If there is already another ‘Harry Potter’ here, why am I here?”

_Actually-_? Hermes frowned, before looking more cautiously at Death. “In fact, why did you bring me here? You never explained why I’m no longer Harriet Potter in my (original, I assume?) reality.”

“ You- _your soul_ had completed the duration of his stay in that particular reality.”

A hard lump formed in her throat. “S-so I did die– Harriet did die.”

“ No.”

She sputtered, incredulous, “ _No_? B-but... but, you _just_ said...”

“ I stated that your stay in your -Your soul’s- presence in your previous reality had concluded; I did not say that you died. There are several ways for a soul’s span in one reality to end, death is but one of them.”

“Gee, all my thanks for the greatly expanded upon clarification,” she replied holding back rolling her eyes. When Death remained silent, she pushed forward, “Could you perhaps elaborate- _please_?”

“ I could possibly, but I won’t.”

“Even to me, your... ‘ _Master’_?”

Hermes was pretty sure that Death sent her, _well_ , a ‘Death worthy’ glare. Perhaps it was the fact that she was ‘Master of Death’ or perhaps it was the fact that her death was not planned for just yet, but Hermes was pretty sure that a less in control of himself ‘Primordial Entity’ would have killed her then and there, based on the brighter glowing embers and the intensity of the darkness and denseness of the Death-cloud currently. ( _Let’s be honest_ : if there ever was someone that was able kill you with a stare, it was most likely Death.) Perhaps it was best not to antagonise him-her-it too much.

The creases of her brow deepened then. “Could you at least elaborate on my current situation? How – why you brought me here, to this ‘ _alternate reality_ ’? Earlier you talked about how you hadn’t been able to place me in this Harry Potter’s body, as his own soul would need it (though, to be honest, I’m not entirely how I would have felt about finding myself in a male body).” An apprehensive feeling running through her, she couldn’t help but ask, “D-did I... ‘ _steal_ ’ someone else’s body- the ‘Hermes Black’ that was supposed to be in this body?”

“ No, you didn’t. Events were altered it so that an unplanned mortal being was able to be created.”

“Me?- that is ‘Hermes Black’?”

“ No, Ophiuchus Phineas Black. In fact, Ophiuchus Phineas Black _and_ Hydrus Nigellus Black; the second one was even less planned than the first. He was possibly a reaction to external involvement... In any case, with a _slight_ intervention your grandparents met and had your father, rather than both living separate, relatively isolated lives.”

“S-so... all... _this_ was done by you?”

“ I didn't do it on my own; Chaos and Time assisted. Even I could not do something like a transfer between two mortal (especially _living_ ) plains without at least a few of the other Entities knowing and there possible assistance. But I will grant you that –you being my ‘Master’- I played a more active role in certain aspects of your life that I haven’t done for any other mortal-being (or, at least while they are still alive). Chaos was up for it from the get go; loves anything that disrupts a planned sequence of events, thus that has the potential to induce, _well_ , chaos. And Time was rather easy to convince; still livid with Life and Fate about the whole ‘Time Lord’ thing.”

“ _’Time Lord thing’_?”

“ Yes, _ridiculous_ name isn’t it. (Not that ‘ _Master of Death_ ’ is much better.) I’m also rather irate about the whole thing with the regenerations, but at least I got back at Fate about the whole Admiral— _no_ , _Captain_[ Hardness](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jack_Harkness) thing; she was _furious_ when she found out about the whole[ Face of Boe](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Face_of_Boe#Possible_origin) thing.”

She wasn’t entirely sure how to comment on this last bit, before another realisation struck, her anger rising, “So you did this- _all this_ to just get back at Fate...and Life?”

“ Well, not the only reason but it would have been a shame to not use the opportunity – at Fate that, is not Life. Don’t know if you realise but Fate is a very ‘ _capricious_ ’ Entity. And by that, what I really mean is that she can be a real Bitch (with a capital ‘B’). Life though won’t mind, or will for about a day. There is so many of you mortal-humans (magical or not), Life barely noticed an additional one, let alone could get annoyed at the fact that there are one more of you. Besides, while less so than Time or I, Life does get annoyed with Fate as well, especially when planning horrible lives and early demises for mortals.”

She didn’t even stop herself from glaring at Death this time. “ _Well_ , I’m _so_ happy that you were able to one up Fate,” she sarcastically retorted. (Though to be fair, if Fate was behind most of the things that had happened to either Harriet Potter or Hermes Black, perhaps she didn’t feel too bad about Death using the opportunity to get back at the other Entity.) “But none of this actually explains why I am no longer Harriet Potter in her reality, or here as Hermes Black in this reality (where there is already a ‘Harry Potter’).”

“ For starters, as I previously stated: you have not yet died. While you soul’s span in your previous reality had come to a close, you were-you _are_ still _alive_. I couldn’t very well just leave you in limbo, now could I? – in addition to it not being a part of my dominion, I can’t just ignore the fact that you are my ‘Master’.”

Hermes frowned, looking down trying to make sense of it all. “Alright... so... my ‘soul’s span’ in my previous reality ended (whatever that means)... but I didn’t die... I just... went to Limbo... before you took me away... to bring me here (since you couldn’t bring me to some version of the ‘after-life?)... _yes_?” She asked, looking back up at the Entity, hoping she was finally getting a modicum of understanding about the whole thing.

“ Simplistic summary, but yes, that is more or less what occurred.”

Trying not to glare at the Death-cloud swirling next to her too much, Hermes tried to sort out her thoughts at the response.

She must have been lost in her thoughts for her while, at one point the silence was broken by Death’s ever-jarring voice, “ Was there anything else... _Master_?”

“Yes, in fact there _is_.”

She then proceeded to straighten herself as much as possible against the bed’s headboard. Only once she was comfortable (as well as felt that she had grown a few inches from her improved posture – not to mention Grand-mère would have been horrified by her previous slumped one) did Hermes stare fixedly back at the Entity, ready for the next part of her verbal probing to begin.

“Earlier you stated that you played a more active role in my life than for any other mortal. Given three crucial facts: _one_ \- that my soul carries a certain kind of magic (something you insinuated earlier), _two_ \- that me regaining my first life’s memories (however fully or partially) was inevitable according to you, and _three_ \- you appear to be want to keep this... _transfer_ unknown to some of the other Entities for as long as possible, I can only assume that you intentionally didn’t bring me to a world –or parallel universe- too different from my own, but one with the same ‘ _kind of magic_ ’ (or very similar). The more the world varied from my previous one, the greater the risk of creating some sort of anachronism, not to mention the high possibility of my magic reacting to the unfamiliar environment, all bringing attention to myself to varying degrees. This would ultimately be like waving a big sign post saying ‘ _An Entity Intervened Here_ ’. Am I correct so far?”

While Death remained silent, Hermes perceived the semblance of what should be taken as a nod, encouraging her to move forward.

“Am I also correct in believing that the fact that you intentionally chose a world with a version of my previous self in it?”

There was another wispy-looking nod, but other than that Death gave no other sort of confirmation.

“Not only a version of me, but of _Voldemort_ as well, no? – While Regulus didn’t call him anything other than the ‘Dark Lord’, he did mentioned the dark wizard terrorising Wizarding Great Britain, bearing views of blood-purity and what not, enough times for me to make a rather obvious connection between him and the madman who continually tried to kill me in my previous reality.”

Death gave a huff, something sounding like ‘ _idiotic name’_ , before answering, “ Yes, as you already know, a version of the mortal Tom Marvolo Riddle exists in this world as well. I believe Fate (being rather repetitive and surprisingly unimaginative) made it so nearly all realities where there is a Tom— _or_ , very occasionally, _Mary_ Riddle (in this particular reality it’s ‘ _Tom_ ’) there is also a Harriet or Harry ( _or Henry, Henrietta, Harriel_...) Potter, as a sort of counter-balance.”

“Alright; fair enough on the eternal link between mortal-enemies. I’ll even pass on the ‘why you brought _me_ into it here, if I wasn’t to be Harriet Potter anymore?’, No instead I’m going to go with the: what possessed you in making me related to _Tom –Fudging- Riddle_?! Not to mention (possibly less important, given things, but still relevant) why am I a _Black_? You even said it yourself: with a ‘slight intervention’ (obviously on your part, with Chaos and Time possibly helping) my grandparents met. I refuse to believe that you didn’t choose _them_ specifically.

Even though it could have been a multitude of two people (I assume that there is a rule that I still needed to be from the ‘mortal-human’ species), it could have been a number of witches, wizards, muggles even... But _no_ , you chose _them_ ; my grandmother, a parselmouth, clearly from the only known British Snake-speaking family (a family of insane bigots, linked with the Dark Arts who, when not inbreeding or ranting on about their ancestry, poison and rape hapless victims into unintentionally creating the next Dark Lord), and my grandfather, a Black (in itself defining what could fill several large tomes also relating to notable temper tantrums occasionally leading to blinding rage, as well as bigotry, dark magic, insanity-linked-in-hand-with-inbreeding to mention a few). _Why_?”

Death’s many embers had brightened during her rant, as if her resentment had fed them. When Hermes finally stopped, their brightness held for a few moments before dimming within the dense swirling cloud. Only then did Death finally speak. “ _Oh_ my most glorious and wondrous Master, I beg your forgiveness!-” The lament in the tone only increased as the Death-cloud swayed dramatically, “ -For I have obviously greatly upset— _no_ , not only upset but _offended_ and _wounded_ you. Oh how will I ever continue on with such grievances? And here I thought you would be grateful for no longer being stuck in Limbo or being killed, but instead having a second chance at life, need I hope, a _happier_ one, with Fate not meddling in (not yet at least).”

Hermes glared at him, “I don’t know about Fate being an utter ‘ _Bitch_ ’ but you’re a huge _Prat_.”

The Entity only let out a jarring chuckle at the retort, “ I am so deeply wounded Master that you to think so low of me.- _But_ ” quickly added in, obviously noticing Hermes about to retort, “ I will endeavour to elevate my standing in your eyes and ease your troubles. Now, I believe the greatest offence you hold is that of your relations, namely being a relation to your previous adversary, _yes_?”

“He did murder my parents, a multitude of others, and continued to try and do the same to me; excuse me if I’m not jumping with joy to being second or third cousins to Voldemort.”

“ Well, the fact of the matter is that you _are_ , and the reason, for the most part, is rather _simple_. You see, when I transferred you to another reality there were certain... _restraints_ and _conditions_ that I had to maintain. More specifically, there are distinct connections, pre-existing or developed through your first reality, which could not be ignored, especially if I wanted keep your second life unnoticed to certain of the other Entities.”

“ _Con-nec-tions_?” Hermes repeated slowly, uncertain if she should like the sound of that or (most likely) _not_.

“ _Indeed_. There exists certain connections or links to your soul: ancestral links, inheritance links, magical links (etc.) all which (unsurprisingly) interlink with each other. To which, there are several reasons why you are a descendant –the _last_ descendant, I might add– of Slytherin.”

“ _Lucky me_.”

Ignoring her petulant remark, Death started enumerating, “ The first one, the most basic, and also a rather direct bond with me and my Hallows: your Peverell ancestry. While the Master of Death could ultimately be anyone (any wielder of magic more likely) a link to the original three gifted with the Hallows can only strengthen the connection.”

“Alright, I understand the link to the Hallows, but could I not have just been part of Ignotus’ line, like I had been as Harriet?”

“ Well, in addition to the several reasons I have yet to mention with relation to Slytherin, Fate has been keeping a close eye on Ignotus Peverell’s descendants, especially in the last century, and would definitely have noticed an addition.”

“What about the other Peverell brother –the oldest one- could I not have been his descendent?”

“ Antioch Peverell. While you did master his wand, you didn’t conquer his remaining line in your previous reality.”

“What do you mean ‘ _conquer his remaining line_ ’?”

“ Well, that in fact is my second point. You see, in defeating Tom Riddle, especially defeating him a wizard duel where he personally challenged you, you also ended up defeating- _conquering_ \- the last of Slytherin’s line and the last of Cadmus Peverell’s line. You could say you inherited these two respective lines through conquest; strengthening your link to not only them but the Stone as well as possible Slytherin or Peverell affinities. On the other hand, you were never directly challenged nor did you defeat and conquer any of the remaining descendants of Antioch Peverell’s line.”

“Anyone I would have known?”

“ From his direct line, one family remained, several still alive: the Longbottoms.”

“You mean _Neville_?” Hermes blurted.

“ A certain Neville Francis Longbottom was indeed the youngest of the direct line.”

Totally ignorant ( _or_ totally ignoring) to the several mental-explosions going off inside Hermes brain, Death continue on, “ Now, for the next reason, I thought it best to call attention to Hogwarts being sentient- _alive_ , with a direct link with not only everything happening within her or on her grounds, but in link with her Founders.”

Thinking of the moving stairs, the Hat, the Room of Requirement, and many others that she had experienced as Harriet, she could only agree, “Y-yes.”

“ Good. Now that that has been considered, I feel it also necessary to point out that when you willing went to meet Riddle and go to your death, you not only invoked the same [Sacrificial-protection](http://harrypotter.wikia.com/wiki/Sacrificial_protection) your mother made to you on all those opposing Riddle but on the whole of Hogwarts. While you may not have been a descendent to any of the Founders, your sacrifice created an insurmountable bond with the castle. One, I might add, in accumulation to the several times you had already acted with the castle’s best interest and safety in mind. There is also the factor that you collected direct possessions of each of the Founders, even releasing some of them from some of the foulest magic existing. Such a multi-faceted, several times over strengthened connection cannot simply be broken or ignored, especially when also considering the built upon tie you later renewed and bolstered dramatically with one of the four Founders.”

“’ _Built upon tie you later renewed and bolstered’_? You mean I had a link with Slytherin before the whole conquest thing?”

“ Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten the whole prophetical link Tom Riddle created between you, not to mention the piece of his soul that attached to you, when he attempted to kill you (the first time that is)?”

“ _Oh_ , right... that.”

“ Yes, _that_. Whether you like it or not, the blaring fact that for a good many years (an important amount in the span of an average mortal-human of your universe) a small piece of Tom Riddle (Slytherin’s last remaining heir)’s soul was attached to your own soul and would have affected you and your soul (especially when in the developing first years of your existence).”

Possibly seeing the slight distaste on Hermes’ face, Death then quickly added (with a near-silent huff), “ _Besides_ , if nothing else, serpents (an apparent symbol of Slytherin) is a symbol of _rebirth_ , _transformation_ , and _immortality_ in several cultures of this universe; I thought it apt, given the situation you found yourself in. (Not to mention, I believe Slytherin is sick of the bad press he keeps on hearing about him and his House from the newly-deceased, and rather hoped, with your help, it could improve).”

It took Hermes a few moments to take everything in; the links, her being more closely related to Riddle than she would have liked, being somehow also linked with Hogwarts and her Founders, even being further linked with the Hallows. “So... I have a link-bond thing with the Peverells... another one with Hogwarts, which both also strengthen by link-through-conquest with Slytherin...” Only when receiving a similar cloud-nod thing as confirmation did Hermes continue on, “I... I suppose that there is some defined magical-slash-soul-link with the Black line as well then?”

“ Indeed. Your relation with the Black line comes through Sirius Orion Black. In being your godfather, a first protective-emotional bond was created, one somewhat similar to that of a parent. This connection was strengthened when he made you his only heir, to ultimately be reinforced when he died as the last remaining Black. You basically not only inherited all of Sirius Black’s possible possessions but the Black line as well (especially given that there no longer any others left).”

Hermes supposed that Dumbledore had already sort of explained this to her when she had inherited Grimmauld Place and Kreacher as Harriet, _but_ —

“-But, what about Andromeda and Narcissa?”

“ Ah yes, Andromeda Irma Tonks, Narcissa Cassiopeia Malfoy (and, for a brief time, Bellatrix Druella Lestrange). True, they were all three born into the Black line. While they did marry (and make another sort of link) into another line and took its name, the connection would have continued (though possibly slightly weakened). Nevertheless, in addition to Andromeda Black being blasted off the line by use of magic (and, unlike Sirius Black, never magically reinstated), when Sirius Black made you his _sole_ heir he inadvertently and unknowing asserted all three of them (as well as a number of distant relatives) _unworthy_ of the Black Line, and breaking any potential remaining bond they still had... More to the point, I thought you would be pleased.”

Hermes blinked, confused, “P-pleased?”

“ Of course. When I looked into your soul, before transferring you to a different reality, in addition to all the different links, bonds you possessed, I noticed the distinctive thoughts and feelings you held for Sirius Black. I thought you would be pleased to be closer linked with him, other than by being his goddaughter, not to mention being closer in age (though we _did_ get the timing slightly wrong, though I’m still not entirely sure how we managed that since we _literally_ had Time with us).”

Hermes frown only deepened. _Wait_ , was... was Death insinuating?... _No_ , surely not... _right_? She still found herself still wanting to make sure (with her voice possibly quavering ever-so-slightly), “Umm, Death... When you say ‘ _distinctive thoughts and feelings’_ and the whole ‘ _closer than goddaughter’_ as well as ‘ _closer in age’_ thing... did... did you mean in a... _romantic_ way?”

“ Well yes. You human-mortals (at least those of your universe) seem rather attached to that sort of thing. (And I believe it will help with both Life and Force when they eventually find out about you.)-”

Hermes gaped in horror. – _Yes_ apparently Death wanted to pimp her out to her previously-godfather-now-second-cousin-once-removed...

“ -While quite a few wizarding families are not favourable to the idea (from what I understand of those recently deceased), it seems that the Black family is more than fine with partnering with a relative, if that’s what is troubling you?-”

As well as clearly noted her face and the abject horror of it, and understood it in completely the wrong way;

“ -Or perhaps... Would you have preferred Sirius Black as a closer cousin or even your brother? The females of the [branded mongoose](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Inbreeding#Animals) species, as well as certain insects have been known to mate with their brothers and fathers. In fact, the common fruit fly females prefer to mate with their own brothers over unrelated males—”

“ _Stop_! Please... just... just _stop_.” Hermes sputtered incoherently, trying not to think of Sirius or herself as fruit flies. “–I was not _in_ love with Sirius! Nor did I ever or do I ever want to _mate_ with him!”

“ You can’t deny you had an overly significant attachment for him—”

“–I _loved_ Sirius, but I was not _in_ _love_ with him! I loved and cared for him as a paternal figure or uncle... as well as a trusted confidant and possibly even a friend, but I never developed romantic feelings for him!”

There was a pause, Death seeming to consider her answer, before appearing to shrug somewhat, “ Oh... right, well forgive me for not understanding such trivialities in human-mortals. These things are more Force, Fate and Life’s purview than my own. In any case, as we have already delved upon: you are no longer Harriet Potter. None can be certain what being Hermes Black will lead to...”

Hermes held herself back from sputtering once more in objection.

That was, until another (possible) realisation came to mind. “ _Wait_. Am I to understand that _you_ were behind the ‘engagement’ that was made between (first) Sirius and myself?”

When five, Hermes might not have fully understood the implications of the Arcturus’ visit and the letters Regulus had started to send her. Instead she had focused more on the fact that she was finally going to have a human-friend. More recently though (especially, now with her previous life’s -blurry- memories) she definitely had a rather clearer idea about what exactly had been agreed between Uncle Arcturus and Uncle Hydrus.

Death huffed. “ I don’t stick my nose into _everything_ to do with your (second) life. The head of the Black line came with that one all on his own; as I said before, Blacks are less squeamish (or rather, more _prone_ ) to partnering with those already related to them. Sirius Black’s own parents were second cousin. I also believe that, when it came down to it, Arcturus Black was rather disappointed with the... _stock_ of potential mates for his grandsons to create the next line of Blacks. Then there is the monetary value and possible magical power that _you_ would bring; From early on he has known of both your father and uncle’s magical skill, as he knew of the skill of several in the Bienbon line (including your grandparents). Finally, there are also the secrets your Black grandparents, followed by your father, your uncle and yourself are obviously keeping from the rest of the Black family, only encouraging his interest further.”

Hermes stayed silent, not fully convinced, her eyes still narrowed on the Entity.

Then came, “When _did_ you stick your nose into my life?”

“ Pardon?”

“You just said that you didn’t stick your nose into _everything_ to do with my (second) life. I can’t help but feel that, indirectly, you confirmed that, even after transferring me into this world, you still _did_ ‘stick your nose’ into my life on occasion.”

The extensive silence after the question was confirmation enough. While she didn’t really feel all that pleased to have figured it out, Hermes sneered, “ _So_ , whe-en di-id you?”

A few black wisps fluttered around the Entity, as Death appeared to be waving off her accusations, “ It was only minor things – nothing life altering.”

“ _What_ wasn’t life altering?”

Her eyes only narrowed further, looking at Death shrewdly when the Entity didn’t directly respond. “You had something to do with my wand choosing didn’t you?”

While Hermes was happy with the wand that she had ultimately been paired with – _[Beech](http://harrypotter.wikia.com/wiki/Beech), fourteen inches exactly, with a [Dragon heartstring](http://harrypotter.wikia.com/wiki/Dragon_heartstring) core_ \- the wand choosing this time round had taken even longer than for when she had been Harriet. What had perplexed the wandmaker as well as Grand-mère and Hermes even more was when, for _two_ different wands, they initially appeared to be more than ready to choose Hermes (she had even felt warmth run through her fingers for one of them) before in both cases the wand had burst and crackled violently. Now that she thought on it, both had been phoenix feathered cores.

The Entity grumbled incoherently to him( _her_?)self, before stating to Hermes, “ I am not... _fond_ of phoenixes. Life repeats that it ‘ _was a mistake_ ’ and was just ‘ _a little more enthusiastic than usual that day_ ’ but I know it was done on _purpose_. As if I would believe that Life was just ‘ _trying out a new breed of peacocks, one with more magical properties_ ’. Not to mention, I’m practically _certain_ that Chaos also had a hand in it. In any case, it still doesn’t change the fact that (unlike snakes who are merely just a _symbol_ of ‘ _rebirth, transformation, and immortality_ ’) phoenixes are (until I find a solution-slash-loophole) ‘ _rebirth_ ’, ‘ _transformation_ ’, and _‘immortal_ ’, even though they were (supposed to be) created-born _mortal_ beings. –I refused for my Master to possess a phoenix core wand.”

“A phoenix feather core chose me the first time round, as Harriet.”

“ _That_ was Fate’s doing, part of her ‘Big Plan’ for Riddle and yourself, and the choosing happened several years before you became my Master. Besides, since then, you then gained the Elder Wand, a much more suitable (and powerful) wand.”

Hermes continued to stare at Death a few more moments, considering a possible response (as well as the possible increased headache from what the Entity would say next). As was until the mention of the Elder Wand reminded her of the three Hallows and not having found them by her side.

“What about the Hallows?”

“ What about them?”

“Well, where are they?” She didn’t really care that much about the Elder Wand or the Stone but she would rather have the Cloak back.

“ Scattered. The wand is currently in the possession the last person who has won it, which is Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore in this reality. The stone is in some rundown shack, a part of Tom Riddle’s soul as well as his foul magic surrounding it. And the cloak... well, it’s the only one I can’t actually see, but I would assume that it is within the Potter’s house or in their vaults in that bank run by goblin-mortals, seeing as they are the last of Ignotus Peverell’s line.”

“D-does that mean I’m no longer Master of Death?”

“ No it doesn’t. Once you become Master of Death, you can’t really undo it... except perhaps if someone else becomes Master of Death, but since that hasn’t happened I’m uncertain on that particularity. Anyways, it just means that you are not currently in possession of them.”

“Can’t I just summon them?”

“ _Summon_?”—Death clearly held back on a few choice words from her question. “ _No_ , you can’t just _summon_ them. Just like being Master of Death doesn’t make you immortal, it doesn’t give you _insurmountable_ power either.” The ‘ you idiot ’ was implied. “ In any case, if _I_ can’t summon them, I doubt a mere mortal, even my ‘Master’ would be able to... but go ahead: _try_ , try to ‘ _summon them’_."

Instead she just glared back.

 

Suddenly, cold seeped through her.

The images of the first (and only) time the Hallows had been so close together – within reach of one another. The image echoed in her mind once more; the red eyes, the voice, the words... Voldemort trying to kill Harriet once more, like he had done to her parents and many before.

Voldemort who existed in this world— _Hermes’_ world as well.

Regulus - _stupid foolish Regulus_ \- had joined his Death Eaters in this world _as well_.

Death had all but confirmed that all realities with a Tom Marvolo Riddle, there was a version of Harriet Potter, all to do with one of Fate’s endless machinations.

The image seemed to amplify in her mind: the red eyes blazing brighter, the voice all the more cold and harsh…

“Vol-Riddle, in this reality, is he- _has he_ gone after _this_ Harry Potter... yet?”

“ Two nights ago Riddle was ripped from his body, now not much more than a wraith, after attempting to kill Harry Potter, much like the events of your own previous reality.”

“And... James and Lily Potter, did they...?”

“ They were killed by Riddle in this reality as well. In worlds where there are mortals foolish enough to attempt to gain immortality, sacrifice and death usually follows in the effort to correct the balance...”

Her own parents— _Harriet_ ’s own parents having died long ago, the loss was less painful to hear upon the confirmation. However the feeling of dread only slowly grew as the extent of the implications of Death’s words sunk in. If there a multitude of realities where there a Tom Riddle was out to get the last Potter, with both his parents dying, it wasn’t a huge stretch to theorise where he would end up next, after being made an orphan...

“Where’s this Harry Potter now?”

“ While I don’t precisely know, I would assume going by what I know of the current holder of one of the Elder Wand (as well as Fate repeating herself), I would say he was left within the last six hours on the doorstep of his aunt and uncle’s house.”

_Wait, what_?—‘ _left on the doorstep’_? _Dumbledore_ left him on the Dursley’s _doorstep_? Yet, however alarming those two pieces of knowledge were, what troubled Hermes all the more was the ‘ _aunt and uncle_ ’ part.

“We have to go get him.” The response came out automatically before she properly thought about it. Once she did, her resolve only increased.

“ _No_.”

“What do you mean ‘ _no’_? _Yes. Yes_ , we _do_. If this universe is one close to my own previous existence, I can only assume that the Dursleys will be just as ‘welcoming’ to him as they were in my own. I’m _not_ letting _this_ ‘Harry’ Potter live through years of—”

“ _No_. Firstly, you are a mortal human of ten— _apologise_ , _eleven_ years. I more than familiar with your species to know that that is nowhere near being fully grow and developed. Secondly, even with an ability to perform magic or the designation of ‘Master of Death’, these do not enable you to magically transport yourself outside of a heavily warded building —”

Before Death could continue though, she called out, “ _Nix—_ ”

_“Stop!_ —You are _not_ calling your bloody elf so you can possibly ask her to apparate the both of you in bloody Britannia!”

“Why not?” Hermes quickly demanded with a pout (she was an eleven year old girl after all).

“ While there is also the rather glaring point that you have no knowledge of this particular building’s many wards and enchantments, thus you don’t even know how they would work or react to such a breech, risking not only your own existence but that your elf, there is also the more immediate fact that you seem to have forgotten.”

“ _What_?”

“ I am DEATH, by definition the end of their current life. So while you might have moved between different dimensions and have faced your own possible death several times over, but let me be the one to point out: it is not normal for a mortal, especially a one still in a _mortal-living_ plain of existence, to see _Me_. - Trust me when I say _most_ mortals do _not_ jump with joy. It is ingrained into their very being-very _essence_ to _fear_ me.”

“I... I don’t—”

Clearly losing patience, Death interrupted, “ -Some, in spite of, their ingrained fear, grow past it and accept their demise for what it is. You would never have been able to become Master of Death if you hadn’t accepted your own death. However, this doesn’t change the fact that even _you_ still feel it. When you first noticed me, you possibly didn’t consciously realise it, but inside you, you _felt_ it– that _fear_ , _panic_ , _incomprehension_ when first seeing the possible end to all you know. It’s ingrained into all mortals whether they truly accept the inevitability of Me or not. So, how do you think your little friend will react upon seeing Death, _hmm_?”

“ _Fine_. So I won’t call Nixie. What about you, though? Surely you could bring the both of us to _this_ Harry Potter. I assume he’s not under the Cloak, so not invisible. That means you can find him.”

“ I most likely could, but I won’t.”

She glared back at Death, “Why not?!”

“ You mean _besides_ the fact that I normally only visit a mortal when they are on the brink of death (or is ‘Master of Death’) and tend _never_ interact, touch, carry ( _etc_.) mortals who are still part of the realm of the _living_? Well, firstly, as previously insinuated, I’m not a 100% certain as to where this Harry Potter is. Usually a death (usually of the same species-type) of some sort has to occur in the nearby area for me to locate a not-yet-dying Mortal. Secondly, as I had been trying to explain: given that you are an eleven year old mortal-human, how would you explain the fact that you know _who_ Harry Potter is, or where he lives, or _why_ you want to take him away from his only remaining family in the first place?... Not to mention, what do you think will happen when Wizarding Britannia realises that their ‘Saviour’ has been kidnapped? There is also the blaring question of where would you take him to? Planning on letting him hide under your bed as you go to classes, _hmm_?”

“Surely you have somewhere where he could go? Somewhere better than the Dursleys at least?”

“ They didn’t all turn out so bad in the end. Your cousin was alright once he grew up, no?”

“I am not letting another version of my previous self live through sixteen years of abuse and neglect just to wait for Dudley Dursley to stop being an utter prat!”

“ That is not up to me— _or you_ , to decide. In any case, do I _really_ look like I have a place that would be at all suitable for a one-year-old wizard-human-mortal? Besides the only mortal-beings I can move— _take_ from a mortal plain are those I bring to the afterlife... or in your case to another mortal reality, seeing as you haven’t yet died.”

After that, Hermes stayed silent glaring at death for a while, not sure what else to suggest.

Then finally a glimmer of hope came;

“What about Sirius?” -Regulus had mentioned ‘ _the gang of Gryffindorks’_ his brother as a part of in several of his letters, with ‘ _Potter_ ’ being the most recurring, evidently also the closest to Sirius Black in the reality as well.

“ This time I can confirm that Sirius Black is current indisposed. He was still laughing maniacally while the other wizard-mortals were arresting him as I collected the souls of the Twelve human-mortals (not to mention the three birds, one cat and hundred-or-so insects) killed.”

“B-but you’ve been here with me the whole evening– haven’t you? You said you came when I called, or when my ‘magic’ called you.”

“ Indeed. But, being here with you doesn’t stop me from being elsewhere at the same time.”

Hermes supposed that being a Primodrial Entity did have quite a few perks. She could imagine it being really inconvenient and unmanageable otherwise. – What's more it also gave a sort of explanation his cloud-like form.

“And... I don’t suppose you would be willing to help free Sirius?”

“ Yes because an escaped alleged mass murderer kidnapping-slash-raising the ‘saviour of Wizarding Britannia’ is so much better.” His tone deadpan.

Her throat tightening as her hoped dwindled once more, “And I assume Remus Lupin is a werewolf in this reality as well, and that thus would never be allowed to adopt this Harry Potter?”

“ You would be correct.”

 

The frustration and powerlessness of the situation (of _all_ of it really) getting to her, she let out a long groan, “What was the point of bringing me here if I can’t fix anything?!”

“ Well, as much as I would _love_ to delve further into the matter, it is so unfortunate that a certain Hydrus Nigellus Black (having most likely finally received the missives with regards to you and the events of the night you were all celebrating Me) has just concluded a preliminary meeting with the Human-Giantess-Mortal Olympe [Athena](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Athena) Maxime, and the human-mortal [Clotilde](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Clotilde) [Eleanor](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eleanor_of_Aquitaine) [Genevieve](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Genevieve) Bienbon (who arrived in the early hours of yesterday), and is now heading our way.”

Looking past Death, across the space, it was only then that Hermes realised how much time must have passed since she had first woken up. The room what brighter than before; sunlight was even already visible, coming through the windows, with a a small sliver reflecting on the floor panes.

Before she could say anything else though, Death disappeared-dispersing through the very space. This was quickly followed with the double doors at the end of the hall opening and Uncle Hydrus striding in (Hermes noticing the disconcertingly similar resemblance to an older Sirius, as well as the tale tell signs to famous Black temper), quickly followed by Madam Maxime, Grand-mère, who also looked rather beside herself, and finally an old witch in white robes, who Hermes could only assume was the Beauxbatons Matron.

 

**\- } * * * { -**

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey readers! I hope you enjoyed this latest chapter and didnt find it too convoluted.
> 
> I just want to make it clear a few things clear, hopefully clear up a few things:
> 
> 1– while its somewhat vague to why Harriet/Hermes is in a different/second reality, she did NOT die nor is she immortal, even if she is Master of Death. I am following JK Rowling’s comment on the subject; [HP Wiki – Master of Death](http://harrypotter.wikia.com/wiki/Master_of_Death)
> 
> More details as to why Harriet/Harriet’s soul left her first life will be further explained in later chapters.
> 
> 2- Several things will be different between ‘Harriet Potter’s world’ (what she remembers of her previous life) and ‘Harry Potter’s/Hermes Black’s world’ – essentially characters are more or less the same but certain objects/events made things somewhat different / essential they are still **Alternate** Realities – Her first life as Harriet hadn’t just been the same story but with a female!Harry.
> 
> 3- Death’s voice/the [Small caps](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Small_caps) was inspired by the character of [Death in the Discworld ](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Death_\(Discworld\)#Character)series by Terry Pratchett.
> 
> Notes:
> 
> * - Similar to canon scene in Book 7, with the trap with Nagini, -while still being one of Voldermort’s Horcruxes and sharing his mind- Harriet retained his memory of the night he killed her parents


	6. Chapter 3 - Brumaire

 

****

** Chapter 3 – Brumaire ** ** 1 **

**\- } * * * { -**

 

“October extinguished itself in a rush of howling winds and driving rain and November arrived, cold as frozen iron, with hard frosts every morning and icy drafts that bit at exposed hands and faces.” ― J.K. Rowling, _Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix_

 

**\- } * * * { -**

 

Hermes let out a frustrated sigh, placing the book down on the desk, next to her notebook.

As if it knew that she had no more use for it (not anytime soon in any case), the book automatically shut. The worn golden lettering shimmed as the room’s light passed over the title: **_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry: Head Boys, Head Girls and Prefects_** \- **_1938 Edition_**.

It had been the last option she could think of. Its futility was expected. This was especially true given that there had been no mention of him in the three other editions she had checked before this one.

Alastor Moody was thorough in his caution-paranoia.

To be fair, there was still a chance that Moody had just never been a Prefect or Head Boy.

On the other hand, Hermes now had the memory of Mad-Eye congratulating Ron Weasley in his own special way, “ _Authority figures always attract trouble, but I suppose Dumbledore thinks you can withstand most major jinxes or he wouldn’t have appointed you_...*” With it came the question of whether the ex-Auror’s words had come from personal experience on the matter; whether being Prefect had been one of Alastor Moody’s first true tastes of the motto ‘ _Constant Vigilance_ ’. She did find it hard to picture him as Head Boy though.

Placing the book on the shelf with the other three more recent editions, Hermes turned back to her desk and picked up the quill and brought forward   her ever-expanding, leather bond notebook (a gift courtesy of Uncle Hydrus for when she had left for Beauxbatons). For the next five minutes the only sound heard was that of a quill intermittently scratching against parchment.

The relevant information (or non-information in this case) added, she looked over the page;

 

_**Alastor Moody** **– AM**_

_**DoB** : ? (Age at least 50 – most likely over 60; later than AD most likely)_

_**Hogwarts:**? (ref above)_

_**House** : ? (could be G / R / S – H less likely but still possible)_

_**P / HB** : ? ( P possible / HB less likely)_

_**OWLs / NEWTs** : ? // given being Auror – must have been EE or O in at least Char / Trans / Def / Herb / Poto_

_**Work** : Ministry - Auror (at least 20 years)_

_**Family** : Not any known still alive // Scottish / family of known Aurors_

_**Skills** : Auror level // High / Magical Mastery_

_**FoP 1 (if exists)**: Most likely – seems to be close friends with AD in this world as well // Role in war was definitely anti-TR / known revulsion for those who practise the Dark Arts_

_**Additional Notes** :_

_\- Highly suspicious/cautious individual in this timeline as well._

_\- Several scars on face // chuck of nose missing (recent injury) // wooden leg // does not (yet?) have a magical eye._

_\- Half or Pureblood – possibility to not know much about muggle world, even if more than the average wizard_

_-_

 

 

While the many question marks and general lack of information about Moody was frustrating, especially given that he was possibly the most well-known Auror of the Twentieth Century. Seeing as he had a rather large number of enemies, some actually competent and well-connected (including Riddle and a fair number of his inner circle), it really wasn’t all that hard to speculate that he had magically altered ( _removed_ ) all records of himself.

For not the first time as well she wondered if she should send a letter to Uncle Hydrus asking if a ‘ _Moody_ ’ had been in school with him. But that raised the problem of why _Hermes_ , his eleven year old niece attending Beauxbatons, wanted to know about a Dark-wizard catcher back in Wizarding Britain. He would most likely think it had something to do with Sirius Black, but even then there wasn’t any real reason for her to have gained such an interest in the Auror. - Moody hadn’t even been one of the ones that had arrested or brought Sirius to Azkaban (Hermes had checked).

It was probably best to move on and focus on the next Auror (and possible member of Dumbledore’s most likely existing secret group). If one of the Aurors and-or members of the possible Flight of Phoenix1 was attacked, Hermes doubted it would be Moody. They would more likely go for someone just as informed but less skilled and less paranoid.

 

She reached for the shelves, about to pick up the 1980 edition of the **_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry: Head Boys, Head Girls and Prefects_** , certain it had mentioned at least two members of the Bones family through the different years, when—

{“H-Hermes?”}

At the call said-witch shifted in her seat to find Fifi at the edge of her dormitory space. Fifi’s own apprehensive gaze was going between Hermes and the rest of her room.

Her unease was fairly understandable. While not a mess (like Fifi’s usually was), the space wasn’t the pristine order that was expected of Hermes, instilled by the Bienbon matriarch and Monsieur Rigere.

Yes, all school books not relevant to tomorrow’s classes were neatly arranged in the bookshelf. Her coursework, all complete, was either in her bag, for those due tomorrow, or organised into the different separators of her extendable folder (a gift from Grand-mère) for those to be handed in later that week. Similarly, all her robes were clean and ironed and in her closet, having been put away by the chateau’s house elves.

On the other hand, however carefully they had been arranged, the bed was _covered_ by newspapers. Hermes had already put away most of the major Newspapers from the rest of the wizarding world (as well as the few British and French muggle newspapers) after having skimmed through their major headlines. Four remained though. They were each arranged into their own row, ordered by date with the latest copy on top.

Even from her desk, Hermes could read the headline of each. The _Daily Prophet_ ’s ‘‘ More Death Eaters sent to Azkaban as Hunt continues’ was accompanied by the mug-shots of a creepy looking twenty-something man, and the caption: ‘ _Sethlans Mulciber CN1_ _– son of one of You-Know-Who’s highest lieutenants; specialist of the Imperius Curse_ ’. While she didn’t doubt that Mulciber was in fact a Death Eater in this world as well (from mentions of him in Reg’s letters and the Harriet memories of him in the Department of Mysteries) Hermes had noted that the article hadn’t mentioned any sort of trial for the Death Eater. Nor had it for the two other Death Eaters also cited being sent to the wizarding prison.

While not mentioning anyone else being sent to Azkaban, the two headlines for the _Evening Prophet_ weren’t much better: '‘ Karkaroff brought to the Ministry – Crouch making deals! ’' and '‘Controversial Hire at Hogwarts – Has Dumbledore finally lost it?’'

Karkaroff’s mug-shots from earlier that year were featured as well as a wizard photo of a just as stern but younger looking Bartemius Crouch Senior to the memories Hermes had of him from her previous life. The article talked of the Death Eater’s trial later that evening, with promise of names of other Riddle’s followers, as well as great speculation as to who these would be.

In contrast, there weren’t any pictures of Dumbledore, Slughorn or Snape. That hadn’t stopped a certain ‘Rita Skeeter’ from making numerous (mostly absurd) speculations on the old Potion Master’s abrupt retirement barely three months into the school year and his continued silence (‘ _a first for Horace Slughorn_ ’), as well as Dumbledore’s decision to hire an previous, even if acquitted, Death Eater of twenty-one as his replacement. Replacement for not only for Potion Master but also Head of Slytherin (though failing to mention that there weren’t any other Slytherin teachers to give the later position to). **2**

At the top of the third row, French Newspaper’s, _La Mante Quotidienne_ 2, focus was on Minister Bagnold arguing the large-scale of breaches of the Statute of Secrecy throughout Wizarding Britain to the ICW, with the accompanying title, {‘‘‘Partying’ is more important than Muggles finding about our way of life for British Minister’'}; something the Prophet had already treated (in a much more favourable light) the previous evening.

As for the _La Man-(ta)-tion Du Soir_ 2 , its main concern was that, with the continued Death Eater Hunt, Dark British wizards would try emigrating to France (and other European countries) to escape capture; {‘‘A Dark Cloud coming our way?’'}. The article had even mentioned Uncle Hydrus in it (even though France had been his main residence for over three decades).

Within the four newspapers of the day, Hermes was actually been surprised that the first mention of the ‘Boy-Who-Lived’ (and speculations on where he was) had been on page three, in the _Evening Prophet_.

Of course that was not all.

Next to the bed was her trunk standing on its side, the third compartment open. The paper sleeves on the inside of the case were filled with educational journals, including _Challenges in Charming_ , _Duelling with Darkness_ , _Martial Magic_ , _The Practical Potioneer_ , and _Transfiguration Today_. Further down were other periodicals, more in line with current events, conspiracies, and gossip-news: _The Weekly Witch_ , _The Quibbler_ , etc.

As for Hermes’ bookcase, hardbacks having nothing to do with the first year classes had now invaded half the space. Titles like **_Important Modern Magical Discoveries, Great Wizards of the Twentieth Century, Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century, Modern Magical History, Notable Magical Names of Our Time_** , and ** _A Study of Recent Developments in Wizardry_** could be read, among a great many other tomes in English, French and even a few in Latin (all which –understandably- had not yet been updated with the recent events of the 31 st of October). As for her desk, several pamphlets self-stood, arranged in several different cluster-groups at its edge. (Hermione would be proud... and possibly jealous.)

And then there were Fifi’s obvious concerns with Hermes person.

 

Still, while Hermes wanted to focus on preparing for when Nixie would visit in the early hours of tomorrow, she smiled back at the other witch. Fifi was one of the few people who didn’t treat Hermes any different, least of all stare at her as if she was about to blow up half the school.

{“Heya Fifi. Come in, come in,”} she called out as she flipped the notebook closed. The soft murmur confirmed the activation of the various protection charms, automatically sealing the leather-bound as well as making the ink disappear until the next time Hermes opened it. Only then did she stand up to properly greet her friend.

Fifi smiled back, while giving Hermes’ desk one last glance. {“I didn’t mean to interrupt. Were you finishing off Professor Prise de Fer’s CN2 coursework on curses and counters curses?”}

Hermes chuckled, {“Not everyone waits until the last moment to do the assignments, Fifi.”}

{“I should have known you’d have it done,”} Fifi huffed. Her eyes narrowing into a suspicious gaze, she then theorised, {“I suppose you have all of the week’s assignments done?”}

Hermes only smiled guiltily in response. She couldn’t very well point out that most of it had been rather easy, especially given that she had already done something very similar in a previous life...

Another huff, joined by a dramatic shake of the head, definitely not impressed, Fifi accused, {“Louis and you work too much. Though, I guess that means you’ll have time to help me with my English coursework?...”} her tone turning hopeful.

{“I’ll look through it and help you out only once you can show me a first draft that you have actually spent time on.”} - _Merlin_ , she really was slowly turning into Hermione.

{“ _Fine_.”}

Hermes lips quirked at the slight whine in the reply.

{“Now, why don’t you tell me why you came to visit my _humble abode_?”}

Brightened at the reminder, Fifi exclaimed, {“Oh right – _yes_! Louis and I wanted to know if you wanted to play _Witches’ Tarot_ **4** with us and Henry?”}

Hermes’ mood turned apprehensive, {“Where?”}

To which, Fifi’s previous enthusiastic expression dimmed. She mumbled, {“In the common room.”}

It made sense. The first year boys weren’t able to go into the girls’ dormitory, nor the girls able to go in the boys, which left the Common rooms. Not to mention, the First year Common Room was the largest on the simple fact that students were only welcome in their own year’s Common Room or those of the years below, to remove the risk of any first or second years disrupting Seventh years hard at work, while allowing the possibility of older students to watch over the younger students, and possibly even help them out with coursework.

Hermes looked down as her hand intertwining, {“I’d better not.”} Her own mood dwindled with every word.

{“It will be _fine_.”} Though from the tone, Fifi was clearly also doubtful.

Hermes scoffed, still looking down at her hand, {“tell that to Matilde and Alice. They literally ran in the opposite direction when they saw me earlier.”}

{“Matilde and Alice are idiots. Besides, look at the positive: the common room will be less busy and we’ll have our choice of the best seats.”}

Hermes couldn’t help but smile. This was why she liked Fifi. The red-haired witch saw the positive in everything; even when being shunned and whispered about by most of the school.

{“What _are_ you doing anyway?”}

Hermes nearly jumped. Though her head did snap upward.

So engrossed in her own-self-pitying, she hadn’t realised how much closer Fifi had moved. Fifi, who was currently craning her neck to look past Hermes at her desk. Thankfully, the notebook was closed and the books had been put away. There was nothing to read.

At Hermes’ silence she looked back at her, her face saddened, {“This is about your dad’s family isn’t it? You were researching into... _him_.”} Her pointed gaze went between Hermes and the newspapers still on the bed.

Hermes sighed. While she obviously wouldn’t share most of what she was actually researching with the other eleven year old, there was no point in denying it. {“Yes. – Not... _him_ specifically, but I... I don’t want to be caught so off guard again.”}

And how true the words were.

The war in Britain was somewhat of distant concept in France, especially for children. Yet, with the news of the events of the 31st of October and more specifically the news about Sirius Black, ‘ _You-Know-Who’s second in command_ ’, having blown up a whole neighbourhood had reached continental Europe and thus the population of Beauxbatons, Hermes had become something of a social-pariah. Even before she had left the hospital wing, it hadn’t taken long for Hermes to notice the shift and figure out the source. There had been the barely disguised excuses from both Grand-mère and Hydrus for staying longer than necessary, as well as the mention of possibly taking Hermes back to Paris or _Le Mas-Noir_ , even though she was perfectly healthy. (Though, to be fair, the matron was still frustrated in not having actually found out _what_ had caused Hermes’ collapse in the first place.) Hermes had also noticed Grand-mère’s paler complexion, the few angry whispers to Hydrus about his ‘Dark family’ when Hermes pretended to be sleeping, as well as Hydrus’ own tense stance and clenched jaw.

And then there had been the stares, varying between sheer terror to cold to hate and anger when she had left the infirmary. Thankfully it was not as bad as what Harriet Potter had faced several times in her previously life; the closest being when she was believed the Heir of Slytherin. (It was rather ironic in a dark twisted way that this time round Hermes, Master of Death, _was_ technically the Heir of Slytherin, along with Tom Riddle, ‘ _Immortal-slash-Defeater of Death_ _wannabe_ ’.) Mercifully, there was also no tolerance for smearing and just plain bullying at Beauxbatons and was dealt with severely (especially when the student targeted happened to be the granddaughter of one of the wealthiest and more formidable witches in France, not to mention whatever influence Hydrus Black and _Dark Moon Winery_ **5** had). There was also the fact that most of the younger students (those who saw ‘the Black witch’ the most) were for the most part too afraid of Hermes blowing them up if they looked at her the wrong way to actually do anything. And thus, most people stayed away from her, creating a wide berth around Hermes. Only a few were brave enough to continue to sit next to her in class, and even braver those (mainly the Toubeau family and Fifi) who continued to talk her.

Nevertheless, it had actually taken Hermes a rather long time to convince both Grand-mère and Uncle Hydrus that she did not need or want to be taken out of Beauxbatons. And Grand-mère was still trying to convince Hermes to change her surname to ‘Bienbon’ or ‘ _at the very least_ ’ to ‘ _Bienbon-Black_ ’ or ‘ _Black-Bienbon_ ’. (Hermes wouldn’t do that to either Sirius or Regulus.)

Of course with the news and accompanying tension-slash-panic, Hermes, with Louis, had been forced to explain to a muggleborn Fifi about the British Wizarding War, as well as the blood-purist ideals that quite a lot of families (not only in Britain) still held (all while reassuring the witch that she didn’t believe them herself), and Hermes’ father’s family back in Britain, with a special focus on her distant cousin, Sirius Black.

 

Needless to say, for all Hermes’ explanations and talk of the war and her family across the channel she failed to mention, to either of her guardians or her two closest friends, her conversation with a Primordial Entity, or the fact she had a previous life, or the still blurry memories that had accompanied the conversation and revelation.

Nor had Hermes told either Louis or Fifi (and definitely not Grand-mère and Hydrus) on all she had been working on these last three weeks:

Any information about this reality’s ‘Harry Potter’, as well the Potter and Evans families in general (as well as all possible news on the ‘Boy-Who-Lived’)...

The gathering of information and general history of Azkaban...

Research on the British trials (for those who actually received them), and on Wizarding laws in general, both laws British and those from the International Confederation of Wizards...

Listing (through from either memories of her previous life, mentions in Reg’s letters, or both) of possible Death Eaters, as well as all current Aurors and those possibly a part of Dumbledore’s potential Flight of Phoenix ( ** _Great Wizards of the Twentieth Century_** confirming that Albus Dumbledore’ familiar and patronus in this reality were also phoenix). The cataloguing proved, if nothing else, that ultimately Hermes was probably more informed than most on the actual members of both groups...

The information she had gathered so far left her anxious more than anything though.

Like Death had insinuated, this reality was same as her previous all while being different.

For ‘Harry Potter’ (very much a _boy_ and _not_ a girl), there was the information that had been spread though all the news papers about the events of the 31 st of October, including the victims: James and Lily Potter both twenty-one years of age, as well as ‘ _You-Know-Who_ ’ (though no body had been found for the latter); the location: Godric’s Hollow, complete with a jarring description of the state of the house after the attack; and numerous speculations as to where the ‘ _Boy-Who-Lived_ ’ was now (Hermes certain that if he was actually aware of the stuff they had written about him, this Harry Potter would have hated it as much as her). There was also the mention of a scar in the shape of a lightning-bolt, although on his _forehead_ rather than over his heart. (Hermes actually felt even sorrier for this Harry, as at least she had been able to hide her scar easily under her clothes. She could only assume that people in the future would be continually looking at his forehead when meeting him.)

With the help of Nixie and Kreacher, Hermes had also found out that both Fleamont and Euphemia Potter, Harry’s grandparents, had died in 1979 from dragonpox. Charlus and Dorea Potter and their son, WilhalmCN3, the only other Potters in recent years, had also died, in 1974, 1977 and 1944 respectively.

Then, mostly through muggle means, she had newly crossed referenced that out of the seven ‘ _Dursleys_ ’ living in the United Kingdom was a certain Vernon Dursley, with his wife, Petunia, and one year old son, Dudley. All three currently lived in Little Whining, Surrey, a near identical to a hundred other neighbourhoods, including a certain _Grouse Grove_ 3 in north-east Kent, where a Harriet Potter had lived in another reality. (Distressingly enough, one of the other Dursleys was a certain Marjorie Eileen Dursley, sister to Vernon Dursley, presently living in the countryside as a dog breeder.)

Sadly, as Death had pointed out in their one meeting, Hermes had yet to figure out _what_ exactly to do with this knowledge, or how to make sure this Harry Potter had a better childhood than Harriet Potter. Not to mention while neither Nixie nor Kreacher had found an Argus Filch living in the neighbourhood, Hermes doubted that Dumbledore had left Harry with the Dursleys without any kind of surveillance.

All the material Hermes had found so far about Azkaban was: it was somewhere in the North Sea, hidden from Muggles, unplottable. This as well as a number of other jinxes and enchantments, meant that it currently had had no breaks out. The only other thing confirmed was being one of the worst (if not _the_ worst) places that existed, mainly due to its residents-slash-guards: Dementors (though the harsh winds, rough waters and cold weather probably wouldn’t help either).

As for the rest; the trials continued, as did the ‘ _Hunt for You-Know-Who’s followers_ ’.

There were negatives and positives on both sides as to the news Hermes found for those associated with the Flight of Phoenix and the Death Eaters.

Similar to her memories of her previous life: Benjamin Fenwick, Pierce and Gillian BonesCN4, the Prewett brothers, and the McKinnon family had all unfortunately been killed during the war. More unexpected (as different from the other reality) though just as undesirable, was reading about Dorcas Meadowes’s (earlier) death at Riddle’s wand. As for the younger Bones generation, only Amelia (unmarried in this reality) and Edmund, with his wife Lucia and their two children Peter and Susan, remained. Thinking on what had happened to Edgar, Brígh, and their children Edith, Jolyon and Ector CN4 in Harriet’s reality, death was arguably preferred. In contrast (like the fore mentioned Amelia Bones), Emmeline Vance, Sturgis Podmore, and Francis Longbottom were all (welcomingly) still alive (as were Alice and Neville Longbottom). All would remain so if Hermes had any say in it.

As for Riddle’s followers, likewise to Harriet’s reality, Syntribus AveryCN5 and Wolfram LestrangeCN6 were dead. As was Maragus NottCN7 (instead of in prison), having died in an explosion some years ago, before any killings or torturing had been linked back to him. Also varying slightly, _both_ Rosiers CN8 (Damion and Evan) and Wilkes had been killed in this reality (-Evan Rosier by Moody, something that had surprised Hermes, seeing that in her previous life the Auror preferred turning them in rather than killing). Asbetus Mulciber CN1 as well as Selwyn, Pyrites, Dolohov, Karkaroff and, as the day’s newspaper had stated, the younger Mulciber as well as Travers and Rowle were all in Azkaban. 7

On the other hand, Achlos NottCN7 was very much still alive (having not been killed in a duel against Meadowes) and free, having successfully escaped jail (leaving Hermes wondering how Theodore Nott would grow up, with both parents alive, one a hardcore Death Eater). In a similar way (and just as distressing), the younger Avery and the Lestrange brothers, as well as Bellatrix, Barty Crouch, the Carrow twins, Crabbe, Goyle, Rookwood, Malfoy, Yaxley and Macnair were all currently still free, out and about.

Hermes could only hope that at least a few of these would be betrayed and revealed by Karkaroff, like he had for Dolohov and Yaxley in Harriet’s reality. With any luck, he would also reveal Pettigrew’s true allegiance. Just like in Harriet’s reality, Pettigrew had supposedly been blown up by Sirius, though by the news of the one finger found within the wreckage, not to mention Death’s words on the matter of Black during their conversation, Hermes very much doubted his validity of the death.8

All this had lead to Hermes current action. She was not only continuing to gather information of those in the Auror office (several which could potentially be part of Dumbledore’s group, including Moody, Bones and Longbottom) but also on the still currently free and most likely Death Eaters.

In particular: Bellatrix.

From Reg’s letters, the further few snip bits she received about the Black and Lestrange families as well as her own memories of her past life, Hermes refused to believe there was any reality of where Bellatrix Lestrange wasn’t loved-up-obsessed with Tom Riddle to the point of not going to the ends of the earth (torturing everyone in her path) in her frantic search to find her ‘Lord’.

Of course all this had been rather tricky. Hermes being an eleven years old (with mostly the magic-power of a pre-teen witch) couldn’t very well do the scouting herself.

Research had proven that while the Ministry didn’t bat an eye to seeing a House elf wondering through the Ministry (though very rarely as it was the mark of a good elf not to be seen), there was an _Office for House-Elf Relocation_ , which held a registry of all British elves. If any House Elf linked to a family where one or several members were currently incarcerated, both the _Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures_ and the Auror Office would be notified immediately; which meant that Kreacher was not to step one foot inside the Ministry.

Nixie on the other hand (linked to the Bienbon family) had no such problem. In fact, on two separate occasions Hermes had already sent Nixie to the Ministry court rooms (as she was going this evening for Karkaroff’s hearing), in addition to visiting several of the other offices of the Ministry, mainly collecting pamphlets or general information. (Though, as per Hermes’ instruction, she was to be extra cautious when in the same room as Moody or Dumbledore.)

Of course both Nixie and Kreacher’s time was also shared with keeping an eye on the Aurors as well as several of the free Death Eaters (mainly Bellatrix).

Though for Bellatrix, like for the trips to the Ministry, Hermes had relayed the task to Nixie, being sceptical in asking Kreacher to spy on another Black member. On the other hand, while clearly perplexed by the order, Kreacher did help Nixie in spying on the two Lestrange brothers, Nott and a few others several of the other free Death Eaters, as well as the Aurors, when outside the Ministry. (Hermione’s voice in her head, Hermes had also ordered them to make sure to eat enough as well as rest regularly.)

It was rather lucky with Kreacher that Hermes was a Black in this reality, and that she had met the old elf several times before. Not to mention, Reg had apparently told Kreacher to follow whatever instructions Hermes gave him, as well as look after her before he had died. Their relationship was definitely a lot better than it had been as Harriet ‘ _half-blood,_ _friend of mudbloods and blood-traitors_ ’ Potter. T hat with the fact that the old elf wasn’t yet as mad, having sent years alone in Grimmauld Place talking to his dead mistress’s portrait. (Although, it was maddening that Kreacher still held on to Master Regulus’ order of not revealing how exactly he had died.)

 

{“Hermes...”}

Fifi’s hand covered Hermes, her face now sad - _concerned_.

{“It’s... it can’t be good to hide yourself... to focus on them. They might be elitist prigs that shouldn’t have the right to hold a wand, but I know that you’re not like them... Louis knows, and Herny and Philippe... and the rest of the school, even if they are just too stupid to realise it. I mean you’re _eleven_. As if an eleven year old would want to murder anyone, let alone become the next Grindelwald or You-Know-Who!”}

Fifi was right of course. – _Well_ , not the eleven part; while her magic was still that of an eleven year old but she had (most) of the knowledge and experience of an eighteen year old witch, not to mention Riddle, at least in her previously reality, had already killed a puppy and had both physically and mentally tortured quite a few of the other orphans by his eleventh birthday.

But for the rest Fifi was (mostly) correct. It wouldn’t do for Hermes to seclude herself from her (few) friends, to read on Dark Lords, on monsters would relished in torturing and killing, on families lost, on betrayals on soul-sucking Dementors...

Still...

In was actually somewhat better than the alternative.

It was either submerging herself in this research or reliving her own past life of a very similar war.

She had still the mind and body of Hermes Black, the eleven year old witch who had never actually seen a person die, but she now also had Harriet Potter locked inside her as well.

While she no longer had the physical scars, Hermes still had the memories, however fuzzy they still were.

As she had the dreams...

As she had the nightmares...

Depending on the night, she would see herself be sorted into Hufflepuff, Hiero swooping into her bedroom a parcel in his claws, one of the Weasley twins’ sending a bludger her way, Hermione dancing with Krum, Ernie looking like he was eating half of Susan’s face as they sat in one of the larger fauteuils in a secluded corner of the Common room...

She also saw Malfoy lying unconscious beneath the sixteen old memory of Tom Riddle, Professor Warren screaming in agony as Voldermort tore her body apart, she saw the Quintaped charging towards her, she saw the green light of the _Avada Kevada_ cure hitting Angelina straight in the chest, she saw all the small glowing sphere blasting to smithereens, she saw Tonks’ hair change from her preferred bubbly pink to the original soft brown before she even hit the floor, she saw –

She saw too much.

However blurry the memories were, she _knew_ what they were, what they showed...

Hermes remembered them more often than not now.

The dizziness from before had now changed to nausea, trembling, her throat dry, her skin prickling, her clothes clinging to her damp chest...

 

She thought she could have coped if she could just have her friends back. Hermione’s head in a large Arithmancy tome, Hannah and Susan insisting they had to do _something_ about her hair, Neville telling her about the latest plant he had been gifted, Ron finally being beat in chess by Luna, Ernie and Justin, rather pompously, going on about each other’s ancestors...

But even they were lost to her.

Yes, Harriet Potter had gone into the forest on the knowledge that she would not survive – _and yet_ , against all odds, against the fact that Riddle was far more knowledgeable and powerful, had the Elder wand in his hand, -actually sent an _Avada Kedavra_ right at her, with no resistance from Harriet, she had survived.

_And yet_ , here she was in another life, in another body, lost to her previous life, to those she loved that had also survived...

It was painful and lonely (even without the rest of the school’s behaviour) with grief pouring in on her from all sides.

 

The memories and pain only muted when her mind was occupied by other things...

... by classes that for the most part were too similar to what she had had already done as Harriet

... by playing rounds of Witches’ Tarot or gobblestones with Fifi and Louis

... by flights on Henry’s broom, both Henry and Phillipe watching on

 

... by research on how to make this reality better than the last.

 

Besides, it was as Hermione had said a hundred times: whether she was Harriet Potter or Hermes Black – she had ‘ _a people saving thing_ ’.

 

Hermes gave a small sigh, {“No it isn’t...”}

Turning hopeful, Fifi edged forward, {“So you’ll join us?”}

{“I guess...”} unable to stop from smiling at the delight appearing on Fifi’s face.

 

Following behind Fifi, Hermes taped her wand on the edge of her dormitory walls and placing the lightest protection charms (those her magic allowed her to chats on the space), before heading down the long corridor to _La Tour Jointe_ , where the Common Room resided.

 

*****

 

A couple days later found Hermes once more in the First Year common room with Fifi, Louis, as well as Emilie Martin, Alain Moreau, and Sandra Garcia, all having come round to the fact that all families had messed up relatives ({‘ _especially if they were English_ ’}). In fact most of the student population was now focusing on the more welcoming events of Yule and Christmas fast approaching.

Like most evenings, they were supposed be revising for the half-term exams coming up in two weeks (currently the History dates for the three Gaulish druids, Panoramix, Getafix and Vitamix, who helped successfully fight off Roman invasion in Northern Armorica6). Yet, like most of the others First year groups laid out through the large communal space, the current talk was mostly focussing on the gift-shopping each was planning on the approved First and Second Year Trip to Beauhameau that coming Saturday; the school thinking it better for them to go in the first days on the Winter Market, when hopefully less busy, with the sixth and seventh years supposedly also helping out in look over them. (The third and fourth years were the following week, and fifth, sixth and seventh years having the last weekend before the Holidays – most of their exams over – to do their own shopping and enjoying the village).

All of a sudden, the light chatter was broken by a small _pop_!

All seven turned to find the small form Nixie standing facing them. Her own wide eyes quickly went between all the different first years to land on Hermes.

Ignoring the start of protests from the other students of a House Elf actually showing itself and ‘disturbing the peace’, Hermes, having quickly taken note of the agitated state of her friend, swiftly stood and went to her. Once they were both in one of the more secluded corners of the room where they would not be heard, Hermes asked, with a small amount of dread,

“What is it Nixie?”

“T’is the Stranges Black witch, Misses... the Stranges is all disappeared, Nixie is not finding any of them.”

_Bellatrix_. The dread mounted. It was too soon. She barely had any time. Why couldn’t the blasted witch just _stop_ being so Riddle-Obsessed!

Hermes thought quickly, all while trying not to let the panic get to her (too much). - “Nixie I need you to be very careful, now; even more so than before. Use any means necessary to conceal yourself from all... I would like you to go back to Britain and continue and try to find the Lestranges. They are probably using enchantments and wards to conceal themselves. Use what you have already know and can identify of their magic as well as Bellatrix’ Black lineage to help you, and then I want you to come bac-” she stopped, assessing the situation further.

Shaking her head, she corrected herself, “Actually... if you do find them, apparate outside whatever place or building they are in and send out a great big bunch of fireworks in the sky – ones that only would only be visible to witches and wizards... if you can cast a repel to muggles from the area if that at all possible, and then come here as quickly as possible before anyone can find you. You understand?”

Clearly knowing the importance of all, the elf only gave a quick “Yes Misses” and bow, to then disaparate with a soft _pop_.

 

Hermes had only just barely reached her room when she heard the distinctive _crack_! Yet, she looked to face Nixie it was to find Kreacher standing in front of her.

Her heart missed a beat.

She could feel the blood leaving her face, the dread only increasing. Her throat dry and tight Hermes found herself only able to hoarsely whisper one word – “ _Who_?”

 

**\- { * } -**

 

“Ludo Bagman, you have been brought here in front of the Council of Magical Law to answer charges relating to the activities of the Death Eaters. We have heard the evidence against you, and are about to reach our verdict. Do you have anything to add to your testimony before we pronounce judgment?”

Alastor Moody watched on as Crouch hard gaze focused on nothing but the accused down in the chair in front of them.

Bagman for himself, shifted clumsily, before smiling awkwardly, “Only well — I know I’ve been a bit of an idiot —”

Alastor held back a snort. Dryly he muttered, “You never spoke a truer word, boy.” Leaning slightly closer to Albus, he added, “If I didn’t know he’d always been dim, I’d have said some of those Bludgers had permanently affected his brain...”

Crouch’s cold voice rung once more through the chamber, “Ludovic Bagman, you were caught passing information to Lord Voldemort’s supporters. For this, I suggest a term of imprisonment in Azkaban lasting no less than —”

Angry outcry from the surrounding benches interrupted the rest of the sentence. Several of the witches and wizards around the walls stood up, shaking their heads, and even their fists, at Crouch, while he looked furiously back.

What did the blasted wizard expect? It was as if Crouch had never been out of his office upstairs; never heard the term ‘ _Quidditch_ ’ before.

On the other hand, the boy was near pissing himself, his round blue eyes wide and frightened.

“But I’ve told you, I had no idea! None at all! Old Rookwood was a friend of my dad’s... never crossed my mind he was in with You-Know-Who! I thought I was collecting information for our side! And Rookwood kept talking about getting me a job in the Ministry later on... once my Quidditch days are over, you know...”

_Idiots are the easiest marks_ , Alastor thought grimly. _Just as long as you know something they want_.

“I mean, I can’t keep getting hit by Bludgers for the rest of—“**

Whatever the blasted beater said next Alastor didn’t hear — an owl swooped in to drop a letter – a black letter – in front of Alastor. Even if not in the usual scarlet red, Alastor received enough Howlers to recognise one.

He barely noticed Crouch fuming glare directed his way (as if it was Alastor’s own fault he received over a dozen Howlers a day), or the second owl reaching for Albus, instead Alastor focused on sending a [_Deletrius_](http://harrypotter.wikia.com/wiki/Eradication_Spell) at the envelope with the flick of his wand.

However, instead of disintegrating, the letter burst open and—

**“ _ Longbottoms under attack! Longbottoms being tortured! Longbottoms under attack! _ ”**

The bellow was so loud that Alastor felt its echo ringing in his ears even once the letter burst into flames.

The next moment though, when turning to his side, he quickly realised the reverberation was actually from Albus’ own Howler, his friend’s [_Expulso_](http://harrypotter.wikia.com/wiki/Expulso_Curse) having clearly not worked on these black Howlers either.

No time to think on the sender or on the complexity of the charms placed on these specific Howlers yet, both wizards rose to their feet ignoring the sudden agitation going on around them and left the room.

It was only once they reached the Ministry’s Atrium that Alastor paused momentarily, when he noticed another black letter frizzling into nothing – having just finished yelling presumably – in front of a rather pale faced Amelia Bones.7

 

**\- } * * * { -**

 

 

 

**=**

 

 

**Character Names** :

CN1 – **Mulciber family** : <http://harrypotter.wikia.com/wiki/Mulciber_family>

**Asbetus (father)** : From **Asbetos** the third of the **Daemones Ceramici** in Greek mythology are five malevolent spirits who plagued the craftsman potter. **Asbetos** (Ασβετος; a.k.a. Asbetus) — the charrer (char, scorch; asbetos).

\- Name in link with being one of Riddle’s first DE and thus against Harry _Potter_.

**Sethlans (son)** – In Etruscan mythology, was the god of fire, the forge, metalworking, and by extension craftsmanship in general, the equivalent, though their names share no etymology, to Greek Hephaestus, Egyptian Ptah and the Roman Vulcan

Both names are based/linked to ‘ _Mulciber_ ’ also being an alternate name for the Roman god Vulcan.

 

CN2 \- **Professeur Prise de Fer** – ‘ ** _Prise de fer_ ’** is a movement used in fencing in which a fencer takes the opponent's blade into a line and holds it there in preparation to attack. Translated from French, the phrase _prise de fer_ means "taking-the-blade" or "taking-the-steel".

 

CN5 – **Wilhalm Potter** , (Charlus and Dorea’s son: <http://harrypotter.wikia.com/wiki/Potter_family>). Derived from William, From the Germanic name Willahelm, which was composed of the elements wil "will, desire" and helm "helmet, protection". The name was common among the Normans, and it became extremely popular in England after William the Conqueror was recognized as the first Norman king of. It was later borne by three other English kings, as well as rulers of Scotland, Sicily (of Norman origin), the Netherlands and Prussia.

 

CN4 – **The Bones Family** : <http://harrypotter.wikia.com/wiki/Bones_family#Etymology>

**Pierce (1 st Gen) (killed by Riddle):** \- derived from the given name Piers, medieval form of Peter. [Known namesakes: Pierce Brosnan (born 1953), Irish actor // Pierce Butler (1744–1822), a Founding Father of the United States.]

**Gillian (1 st Gen) (killed by Riddle):** \- Medieval English feminine form of Julian, itself derived from the Roman name _Iulianus_ , which was derived from Julius. This was borne by several early saints, including the legendary Saint Julian the Hospitaller. This name has been used in England since the Middle Ages, at which time it was also a feminine name (from Juliana, eventually becoming Gillian).

**Edgar (2 nd Gen) (killed by DE)**: [Already in Canon] derived from the Old English elements _ead_ "rich, blessed" and _gar_ "spear". This was the name of a 10th-century English king who is regarded as a saint.

Wife: **Brígh (nee Fawley) (killed by DE)** : - Derived from Irish brígh meaning "power, high".

Daughter: **Edith (killed by DE)** : from the Old English name _Eadgyð_ , derived from the elements _ead_ "wealth, fortune" and _gyð_ "war". It was popular among Anglo-Saxon royalty, being borne for example by Saint Eadgyeth;, the daughter of King Edgar the Peaceful.

Sons (twins):

**Jolyon (killed by DE):** Medieval form of Julian. / Named after (parental) grandmother Gillian.

**Ector (killed by DE):** variant of Hector, derived from Greek ‘εκτωρ (hektor) "holding fast", ultimately from εχω (echo) meaning "to hold, to possess". Hector was one of the Trojan champions who was brutally slain by Achilles, who proceeded to tie his dead body to a chariot and drag it about. Hector has occasionally been used as a given name since the Middle Ages, probably because of the noble character of the classical hero. Sir Ector is the foster father of King [Arthur](https://www.behindthename.com/name/arthur) in the Arthurian legend. / Named after (maternal) great-grandfather Hector Fawley, MoM from 1925 to 1939: <http://harrypotter.wikia.com/wiki/Hector_Fawley>

**Amelia Susan (2 nd Gen)**: [Already in Canon] variant of Amalia, derived from the Germanic word amal meaning "work" and means "industrious" and "fertile".

**Edmund (2 nd Gen)**: From the Old English elements ead "wealth, fortune" and mund "protection". This was the name of two Anglo-Saxon kings of England, and two saints. Remained in use after the Norman conquest (even being used by king Henry III for one of his sons).

Wife: **Lucia ‘Lucy’ (nee Keele):** Feminine form of Lucius, Roman _praenomen_ , or given name, which was derived from Latin lux "light". Saint Lucia was a 4th-century martyr from Syracuse, and the patron saint of the blind. She was widely revered in the Middle Ages, and her name has been used throughout Christian Europe (in various spellings). It has been used in the England since the 12th century, usually in the spellings Lucy or Luce.

Son: **Peter** named after (paternal) grandfather.

Daughter: **Susan** : [Already in Canon], the Anglicised form of Susanna, meaning Lily or Rose. Named after aunt.

Edmund, Lucy, Peter and Susan are all linked with the Pevensie children in the Narnia Chronicles.

 

CN5 – **Avery Family** : <http://harrypotter.wikia.com/wiki/Avery_family>

**Syntribus (Father)** : From **Syntribos** the first of the **Daemones Ceramici** in Greek mythology are five malevolent spirits who plagued the craftsman potter. **Syntribos** (Σύντριβος; a.k.a. Suntribus) — the shatterer (shatter, crush; syntribô)

\- Name in link with being one of Riddle’s first DE and thus against Harry _Potter_.

**Pravus (Son)** : Latin for: 1. crooked, deformed // 2. depraved, perverse, wicked

CN6 – **Lestrange Family** : <http://harrypotter.wikia.com/wiki/Lestrange_family>

**Wolfram** (Father) - Derived from the Germanic element wulf meaning "wolf" combined with hramn "raven". – Raven in link with the Corvus Lestrange Branch.

**Rodolphus** (son) - already in Canon; the Latin form of the name 'Rudolf', which is derived from the Germanic name Hrodwulf, meaning "famous wolf". (May allude to prominent Nazi Rudolf Hess)

**Rabastan** (son) – already in Canon; may be a play on _Rastaban_ , the traditional name of one of the stars of the constellation Draco. It is derived from an Arabic phrase "Rās al-Thu` " meaning "head of the serpent". The star is also known as Alwaid, meaning "who is to be destroyed" in Arabic.

 

CN7 – **Nott Family** : <http://harrypotter.wikia.com/wiki/Nott_family>

**Maragus (1 st gen)**: From **Smaragos** the second of the **Daemones Ceramici** in Greek mythology are five malevolent spirits who plagued the craftsman potter. **Smaragos** (Σμάραγος; a.k.a. Smaragus) — the smasher (smash, crash; smarageô)

\- Name in link with being one of Riddle’s first DE and thus against Harry _Potter_.

**Achlos (2 nd gen)**: In Greek mythology, according to some ancient cosmogonies, Achlys was eternal Night before Chaos, also mist of death (Greek language: Ἀχλύς "mist"). According to Hesiod, Achlys was the personification of misery and sadness. May also have been the deity of deadly poisons.

\- Name also in link with _Nótt_ , the personification of night in Norse mythology

**Theodore** ( **3 rd gen**): already in Canon; from Greek meaning " _gift of God_ ". The Welsh version of the name, _Tewdwr_ , was anglicised to Tudor, the name of a royal dynasty of England that ended with Elizabeth I. It could imply that Theodore was "God's gift" to his parents, if the version of his mother being an older woman are true and she was already out of age to get pregnant.

 

CN8 – **Rosier Family** : <http://harrypotter.wikia.com/wiki/Rosier_family>

**Damion (Father)** – derived from Damian/Damien - From the Greek name Δαμιανος (Damianos) which was derived from Greek δαμαζω (damazo) "to tame". A Slight play/link to the character Damien Thorn, who is the Antichrist, in the film _The Omen_ , with the added link between thorn and ‘rosier’ meaning ‘rosebush’ in French.

**Evan (Son)** – already in Canon; a Greek name meaning "of noble birth", possibly a reference to the belief that pure-bloods are the wizarding world's aristocracy. It can also be a Welsh name meaning "young warrior", which Evan Rosier was.

 

=

 

**Text** :

*- taken from HP&OoP, Chapter 9.

** - Parts taken directly from HP&tGoF, Chapter 30.

 

.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 0\- Brumaire: the second month in the French Republican Calendar; starting between 22 and 24 October, and ending between 20 and 22 November. The month was named after the French word for fog, _brume_ , fog occurring frequently in France at that time of the year: <https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Brumaire>
> 
> 1\- The Order of the Phoenix in Harriet’s reality was called the ‘Flight of Phoenix’:
> 
> A sort of play on words, on the collective noun ‘Flight’ to describe a group of birds [I couldn’t find the collective noun for a group of Phoenix (if such a thing exists); hesitating on several for bird flocks, went with ‘Flight’ for the alliteration between the ‘F’ and the ‘Ph’ and the close spelling of ‘flight’ and ‘fight’] and the argument that the plural of phoenix is phoenix (rather than phoenixes)
> 
> Basically, whether one phoenix in flight or a ‘flight of phoenix’, the group has a common cause, working together.
> 
> 2 \- While not explicitly said in Canon, it is speculated that Snape became Head of Slytherin because there wasn’t any other option: <http://harrypotter.wikia.com/wiki/Severus_Snape>
> 
> 3\- _La-Mante Quotidienne_ and _La-Man-(ta)-tion Du Soir_ : The French newspaper and evening paper:
> 
> \- The daily paper: a play on words between ‘mante’ (French for a mantis, from Ancient Greek - mántis, “soothsayer” (link with ‘prophet’)) and lament.
> 
> \- The evening paper: play on words between ‘mante’ / Lamentation / mention /
> 
> Both go on the saying/notions: ‘All News is Bad News’ / ‘Bad news dominates the Headlines’
> 
> 4 – _Witches’ Tarot_ : the magical version of the popular French card game, ‘ _Jeu de tarot_ ’, a.k.a.: French Tarot: <https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/French_tarot>
> 
> 5 – _Dark Moon Winery_ : A link to the Black family name as well as the fact that the Blacks are in general being linked with celestial sky and their movement; the Black Vineyard only collects its grapes only during the duration of the period of a dark moon. Their key wines: Black Moon collected during the rather rare occurrence of a Black Moon. / Lilith’s Black Heart Liqueur – an exclusive Black liqueur created every 8 years and 10 months
> 
> <https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dark_moon> // <https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Black_moon> // <https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Planetary_objects_proposed_in_religion,_astrology,_ufology_and_pseudoscience#Lilith> / <https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lilith>
> 
> 6 – _Grouse Grove_ : **Grouse** : noun. 1. Any of various game birds. / 2. A cause for complaint.
> 
> 7 – The First DE: Syntribus Avery, Wolfram Lestrange, Damion Rosier, Asbetus Mulciber, Maragus Nott, Antonin Dolohov [ <http://harrypotter.wikia.com/wiki/Tom_Riddle%27s_gang>] Being part of Tom’s gang, it would make sense that they were the first that Dumbledore and the Order would focus on, thus more likely to be killed or imprisoned by 1981.
> 
> 8 – Seeing as Karkaroff didn’t know about Dolohov, Mulciber, and Travers imprisonments or Rosier’s death based of the Pensieve memories in book 4, it is easily argued that K would not have necessarily heard of Sirius’ arrest and Peter’s ‘death’ at the time of his trial-deal with Crouch.
> 
> 9 \- The druids are in link with the popular Franco comics _Asterix_. The druid name in English varies between UK and US versions as well as between editions and films: <https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_Asterix_characters#Getafix>
> 
> 10 \- While never stated in the Canon, seeing as A Bones was Head of the DMLE by Harry’s 5th year, which is rather closely linked with the Auror Office, so it wouldn’t be a stretch to assume/decide that she was an Auror previously.

**Author's Note:**

> This first part of the prologue is very short, but parts 2 and 3 will be longer and give more of a back-story.
> 
> * - For the birthdates:
> 
> For Bellatrix, only the year was given on Harry Potter Wiki, I decided to go for the date of Walpurgis Night (ie- Witches’ Night), as it seemed rather pertinent - especially given that Tom Riddle’s first followers at school were called the ‘ _Knights of Walpurgis_ ’.
> 
> The month and day for Regulus are based on the Leo Horoscope - a ‘late lion’ - which seemed rather fitting as Regulus means ‘little lion’.
> 
> * - Not already known middle names were based on previous family member’s names.


End file.
